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A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 



OF THE 



WAR OF INDEPENDENCE 

(The Chevalier de Pontgibaud) 



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A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

OF THE 

WAR OF INDEPENDENCE 

(THE CHEVALIER DE PONTGIBAUD) 

TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY 

ROBERT B. DOUGLAS 

Author of 

''The Life and Times of Madame dii Barry\ ''Sophie 
Arnottld: Actress and Wif\ etc., etc. 



With an Engraved Portrait 



NEW YORK 

J. W. BOUTON, lo West 28th St 

1897 



tZ Zh6 
.^7827 



"The story of my life, 
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes. 
That I have passed." 

Othello, Act. i, sc. 3. 



MAR 2 9 r^'; 



PREFACE. 



The Chevalier de Pontgibaud was one of the gallant 
little band of Frenchmen, who, " sick for breathing and 
exploit ", crossed the Atlantic to aid the American colonists 
to gain their independence. Like most of his companions, 
he was a mere lad, courageous, adventurous, high-spirited, 
light-hearted, and cool-headed, but he united to these 
ordinary attributes of the French gentleman, one which 
his comrades did not possess, or had no opportunity of 
developing. He seems to have been a shrewd observer 
of men and events, and he had a keen sense of humour. 

It was not probable that a youth barely out of his teens 
and thinking more of his own liberty than the cause in 
which he was engaged, should have noted his impressions 
at the time. They were written down more than forty 
years later, but that will not detract from the value of a 
book which gives vivid pen-portraits of men about whom 
much has been written but of whom much yet remains 
to be written. 

Concerning the author's life, little need be added to 
what he tells us, but I am indebted to his great-great- 
nephew, the Comte de Pontgibaud, for some details which 
are not to be found in the book. The Chevalier de 



VI PREFACE. 

Pontgibaud married— 31 July 1789 — a daughter of Marechal 
de Vaux, and the widow of Comte de Fougieres, marechal 
de camp. He was deeply attached to her, and only 
survived her a few months. She died in 1836 and he in 
1837. From the time of his return to France (18 14) till 
his wife's death, he resided at 6, Place Royale, Paris, but 
afterwards removed to the residence of his nephew, Comte 
de Pontgibaud, 32, Rue des Tournelles, where he died. 

He was a genial, kind-hearted man, and it is related 
of him that in his later days he never left home without 
a pocketful of five-francs pieces, one of which coins he 
would bestow on each poor person he met. " As I want 
for nothing myself," he said, "let me do all I can for 
poor people who do want." Indeed had it not been for 
his charitable disposition he would never in all likelihood 
have written his book. His cousin, Mme de Lavau, who 
was interested in many charitable works, said to him one 
day, " My dear cousin, you have had such an adventurous 
career that an account of the principal events of your 
life would make a most interesting book. I would give 
away the copies as prizes in a lottery, and I warrant we 
should get a large sum for one of my charities." The 
proposal was perhaps hardly flattering to the author, but 
he was too kind-hearted to refuse, and the book was duly 
written. He even permitted a relative to pad out the 
volume by the addition of some singularly dull letters, 
which, being devoid of all interest, have been omitted from 
the present translation. 

The Memoires du Comte de M (the writer was then 

known as the Comte de More) has become a rare book, 
and appears to have been unknown to many of the 
historians and biographers whose writings relate to the 
War of Independence and the actors concerned in it. 



PREFACE. VII 

That the book is rare and rather valuable is due to the 
" book -maniacs ", who have snapped-up every available 
copy, not on account of any interest in the book or its 
author, but because of — the printer! A certain young man 
had persuaded his relatives to set him up in business as 
a printer, but in a little over a year he contrived to lose 
more than 150,000 francs. He threw up the business in 
disgust, and resolved to make his living by the pen. To 
prove that he was better fitted to compose with the pen 
than with the "stick", it needs but to cite his name, — 
Honore de Balzac! Even a book which had the honour 
of proceeding from the novelist's unprofitable press has 
acquired a fictitious value. 

Both as the Chevalier de Pontgibaud and the Marquis 
de More, the author had the good sense to keep out of 
politics, and his name occurs but rarely in memoirs and 
histories of the day. In Vatel's Vie de Madame du Barry 
he is mentioned as being present at a dinner party to 
which she was invited. The incident is related in the MS. 
Memoirs of Comte Dufort de Cheverny. " Seeing that the 
Chevalier wore the Order of Cincinnatus, she told us the 
following story. 'When I was at Versailles, I had the 
..six tallest and best looking footmen that could be 
fomid, but the noisiest, laziest rascals that ever lived. 
The ring-leader of them gave me so much trouble that I 
was obliged to send him away. The war in America was 
then beginning, and he asked for letters of recommen- 
dation. I gave them, and he left me with a well filled 
purse, and I was glad to get rid of him. A year ago he 
came to see me, and he was wearing the Order of Cin- 
cinnatus.' We all laughed at the stury, except the Che- 
valier de Pontgibaud." 

On the fly leaf of a book in the Library at Clermont 



VIII PREFACE. 

Ferrand there are also some MS. notes — supposed to be 
written by Comte Thomas d'Espinchal — relating to the 
Chevalier de Pontgibaud. It is there stated that the Che- 
valier furnished Talleyrand with the means of returning 
to France by lending him 600 louis. It is not improbable, 
and as the Ex-Bishop would be absolutely certain to forget 
the obligation, this may account for certain severe remarks 
about Talleyrand to be found towards the close of the 
present volume. 

In editing the Chevalier's Memoirs I have done little 
more than identify the personages named only by initials, 
and supply notes concerning them, correct one or two 
dates, and strike out a passage or two that was not 
according to modern taste. As a translator I have endeav- 
oured, as I always do, to render the original as faith- 
fully as could be, and preserve the style and spirit of the 
author. The only liberty I have taken with the text is 
to cut up some of the sentences, for a few of them were 
of an inordinate length. If it should be found that the 
style is not always of the purest, it should be remembered 
that the Chevalier was a man of action, and was fighting 
for the freedom of America at an age when less adventurous 
youths are quietly pursuing their studies. 

ROBT. B. DOUGLAS. 
Paris, loth January 1897. 



CONTENTS. 



Chapter I. 

PAGE 

Birth — Early days — Education — Out in the world — Sent to 
the prison of Pierre-en-Cize by order of the King I 

Chapter II. 

Eighteen months in prison — A plan of escape successfully 
carried out — Armed resistance — Sheltered by a Lyons merchant — 
Arrival in Auvergne — A family compact — A compromise 
effected — Departure to join the so-called "insurgent army" in 
America 13 

Chapter III. 

Wrecked in Chesapeake Bay — Williamsburg — Mr. Jefferson — 
Aspect of the country between Williamsburg and the camp at 
Valley Forges — Description of the American Army — Welcomed 
by Marquis de la Fayette — He appoints me his aide-de-camp — 
My mission to the Oneida Indians — American ideas of the 
French — The camp at Valley Forges — General Howe's dog — 
Attempted sortie of the British Army from Philadelphia — The 
passage of the Schuylkill, and return — Our ambulance siirgeon — 
Evacuation of Philadelphia — Defeat at Rareton Rivers — Battle 
and Victory at Monmouth — New York blockaded — Arnold's 
treason — Arrest, trial, and execution of Major Andre — The 
Earl of Carlisle and Marquis de la Fayette — Comte d'Estaing 
before New York — Siege of Newport, Rhode Island, by Gen. 
Sullivan — I am charged with the re-victualling of the French 
fleet — The siege of Newport raised — Our departure for France 
on board the frigate " Alliance " — A storm and its consequences — 
Mutiny on board — Capture of a British cruiser — Arrival at Brest. 33 



A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 



OF THE 



WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 



CHAPTER I. 

Birth — Early days — Education — Out in the world — Sent to 
the prison of Pierre-en- Cize by order of the King. 

My father — Cesar de More Chaliers, Comte de 
Pontgibaud — has often informed me that I came 
into the world on 21st April 1758. * My mother, 
whose maiden name was Marie Charlotte de Salaberry, 
was, I believe, at that time a young and pretty 
woman, but I can recollect very little about her, as 
she died whilst I was still very young, from a shock 
caused by being suddenly told some bad news. 

I derive my family title from the noble old castle 
in which my father and mother lived. 

The chateau possessed battlements, solid walls, towers 

* See note A, p. 193, as to the actual words employed in the original. 

I 



2 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

black with age, and of undoubted historic interest, — 
but it was not a cheerful residence all the same. 

My father was lord of the small town of Pont- 
gibaud, and a good number of parishes round, and 
united in his own person all the feudal rights of 
lay and clerical patronage, — for he nominated the 
cures of most of the neighbouring villages. The 
Comte and Comtesse de Chaliers lived amongst their 
vassals, who were all dependent on their bounty. 
No one in the district knew anything about the rights 
of man, but all did know, and practise, the duties 
of gratitude and respect. It is a fact that whenever 
my mother went out, the women and children fell 
on their knees, and called for heaven's blessing on 
their lady, and the men, even the oldest, took off 
their caps when they saw their master and mistress 
coming, and set the church bells ringing. What 
harm was there in this interchange of protection on 
one side, and love on the other? Were they not 
like children honouring their father and mother? 

The huge, old castle overlooked the town, and 
the fertile valley watered by the Sioule, which 
stretches far away to the peaks of the Monts d'Or, 
but like all the valleys in Auvergne, though the 
view looked so pleasant and peaceful when the 
elements were at rest, it would sometimes assume 
in one night a quite different aspect ; like the gaves 
of the Pyrenees, our brooks swell into torrents after 
a single storm, and the floods render the country 
not only dreary but dangerous. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 3 

Custom makes as many victims as imprudence, 
and the natives of the country really run more risk 
than travellers, because they are less cautious and 
more daring. One of our neighbours, a friend of 
my parents, Comte de Mont— — , returning home 
one night on horseback, missed the ford, which he 
thought he knew well, and was drowned in the 
Sioule, which was then in flood. The news of this 
accident was announced to my mother in too sudden 
a manner, and gave her a shock from which she 
never recovered. 

With the exception of some trifling incidents, 
which might have happened to anybody, I can 
remember nothing that occurred, that deserves to be 
recounted, from the time that I was weaned till I 
was ten years old. I had, however, somewhat of 
the same character which Plutarch remarked in 
Alcibiades. 

I was brought up almost entirely by my maternal 
grandmother, la Presidente de Salaberr}^ One day 
at dinner, she said to me, 

" My boy, will you have some spinach ? " 

" I don't like spinach, " I replied. 

" At your age you ought to like everything, my 
boy. You will have some spinach." 

"I will not eat it." 

"You will eat it;" and down came my plate with 
the spinach on it. 

My own recollection of the event is hazy, but it 
appears that I took the plate, and threw the spinach 



4 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

into my grandmother's face, — mucli to her grief and 
astonishment, and that of everybody else who was 
present. She said, " Go to your own room," and I 
went. 

My grandmother, — a very quiet, pious, and respect- 
able old lady, — was far more troubled by the occur- 
rence than I was, for I could only see that it was 
wrong to try and make me eat spinach when I had 
said that I didn't like it. The dear old lady put 
it all down to God's will and the irresponsibility of 
childhood, and said to her old servant, 

" Lepage, go to my grandchild, and tell hirn to 
come and beg my pardon ; and here is a louis that 
you may give him from me." 

The old servant had no doubt whatever as to the 
success of his mission, since he had a free pardon 
and a louis to offer the rebel. He delivered his 
message, and wound up by saying: 

" Come, jnonsieur le chevalier ! Here is a louis 
that your good grandmamma charged me to give 
you; so come and beg her pardon, and eat your 
spinach like a good boy." 

The louis met with the same fate as the plate, for 
I threw it in the old man's face. 

" Does my grandmother think, " I cried, " that I 
can be bribed into making an apology ? " 

I suppose I was very proud of this reply, for I 
often used to think of it afterwards, and do still 
sometimes, though now I estimate it at what it is 
worth. As for the little domestic drama, it probably 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 5 

finished like all others of the same kind; the little 
chevalier made an apology, ate his spinach, and 
was pardoned by his grandmother, — but I have dis- 
liked spinach from that day to this. 

But this picture of my youth is only a page from 
universal history; — an event which might, or does, 
occur to everybody of the same age and condition. 

In 1773 I laid aside the toga praetexta, and put 
on the toga virile, — or, in other words, I attained 
my sixteenth year. 

Here the storms of life began to beat upon me, 
for, almost from the beginning, my life has been 
adventurous. The narration of all that I have 
suffered, seen, done, and noticed, from Pierre-en-Cize 
to New York, from Boston to Coblentz, by sea or 
by land, in both hemispheres, will not be without 
interest and profit to my friend the reader, whoever 
he may be, or whatever his age. Fortune set me 
adrift in a rudderless boat, but I managed to steer 
it somehow, and am now safe in port, and not 
dissatisfied on the whole with my long voyage. 
My bad luck did not astonish me greatly, or my 
good luck either for that matter; from whence I 
conclude, that whoever reads me will be more sur- 
prised than I either was, or am. My trials began 
when I was sixteen years old, and I defy M. Azais 
to classify them in his system of compensations.* 

* Pierre Hyacinthe Azais, b. 1766, d. 1845. The author of a stupid, 
and now forgotten book, entitled The Compensations of Destiny, which, 
effectually destroyed what little celebrity the author had ever enjoyed. 



6 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

I must here state that my father had two 
brothers-in-law, who were excellent uncles to me, 
and, with the best intentions in the world, did me 
all the harm they could, but as their intentions were 
good, I suppose they will not have to answer to 
God for their misdeeds. The one was the President 

de Salaberry, and the other Baron d'A , who, 

having become a widower, took for his second wife 

Madame P , a widow with a grown-up daughter. 

Madame P , now my aunt, married her daughter 

to my elder brother, and I suppose I interfered with 
her projects and calculations, but at any rate she 
certainly w^as not kindly disposed towards me, and 
by dint of crrtain lectures at last persuaded her 
easy-going, credulous husband, my uncle, to share 
in her dislike of me. My brother, and my young 
sister-in-law, had something to do with the schemes 
of my aunt (her mother, and his mother-in-law), for 
I have some idea, — in fact I am almost certain, — 
that her cordial dislike to me was the effect of her 
maternal tenderness. I was only a " cadet of 
Auvergne, " and my brother was the elder, and by 
the simple application of one of the four rules of 
arithmetic, — subtraction, — it appeared evident to her, 
that if I were out of the way, her daughter would 
be, — in the event of anything happening to my 
brother, — sole heiress to the estate, undiminished by 
the payment of my portion. The prospect seemed 
tempting: I will not say that it was fair and hon- 
ourable conduct, but it was not her fault that 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 7 

the end did not crown the work, as will be seen. 

After the death of my mother, my father did not 
revisit Paris, but lived in his old castle, and hoarded 
up the revenues of his vast domains. I passed, I 
believe, two or three years at Juilly, under the more 
or less affectionate care of my uncle, the second 
husband of a second wife. I picked up some 
learning, — very much against my will, — under the 
reverend fathers of the Oratory, but, when I left 
them, I was not precisely what would be termed a 
good scholar. If I had shown an inclination to 
learn anything, it was certainly not Greek or Latin, 
nor had I much cultivated the flowers of rhetoric. 

I then went to college, but resided in my uncle's 
house, and he was supposed to watch over me. As 
a matter of fact no one troubled his head about 
me. To the outside world I appeared to be in the 
bosom of my own family, and under the watchful 
eyes of affectionate relatives, but in reality I was 
left to my own devices, and at sixteen was under 
no control whatever. 

At this critical period of my existence, no one 
had said what they wanted me to be, nor had I 
been consulted on the subject. For my own part 
I neither knew, nor cared. I was sixteen years old, 
was in Paris, and my own master. I was youthful, 
vigorous, warm-hearted, inquisitive, and inexperienced, 
and was fated, like everyone else, to acquire ex- 
perience at my own expense. With no friends, and 
no one to guide me, it would have been a miracle 



8 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

indeed if idleness and want of occupation had not 
led me into mischief. But the watchful eyes of 
persons who bore me no good-will followed my 
every movement. They did not have to wait long 
to detect me in some act of thoughtlessness, quickly 
followed by other and graver ones, and my aunt 
made it her constant care to spitefully exaggerate 
all my faults and depict them as crimes to my 
uncle, and through him to my father, who was a 
hundred leagues away from the capital. 

It was made to appear that all the laws of nature 
and the divine order of things had been upset, 
because a blundering, stupid school-boy of sixteen 
had committed a few trifling excesses. Of course, 
I had had recourse to the money-lenders. They are 
ready enough to come to the aid of any extrava- 
gant young man, but I had saved them that trouble 
by going to them. The whole extent of my vice 
was, that I was acquainted with some young women 
of easy morals, and had made some debts, which, 
as I was allowed no pocket-money, and was not a 
coiner, was hardly a matter for surprise. What 
they said, or what they did, or what charges my 
aunt brought against me, I know not, but it is 
certain that my father was led to regard me as a 
monster of iniquity, and not only to give his consent, 
but even to order, that a family council should be 
called to deliberate on my case. I might have 
confessed that I had done neither more nor less 
than a young blockhead of sixteen, left to himself 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 9 

in Paris, might be expected to do, and they must 
have acknowledged that I was innocent of something 
Hke seven-eighths of the capital sins, but my aunt 
had so mixed up the true with the false, and the 
false with the probable, that my poor old father did 
not doubt for an instant but that I was capable of 
every crime, winding up — since I had not commenced 
with it — by parricide. I am not overstating the 
case, absurd as it may sound. 

Unhappily for me, all the fathers in Auvergne 
were just then in a state of fright, — an epidemic 
of terror had seized them all. There are weak 
minded people in castles as well as in huts, and 
fools are to be found in aristocratic drawing-rooms 
as well as in the sixth floor garrets of city houses. 
About this time, it was said that many young 
children had disappeared, and this, coupled with the 
report that the Dauphin was suffering from some 
strange malady, led many of the good citizens of 
Paris to believe that the Prince had been ordered 
blood baths, and that all the young innocents who 
were lost had gone to fill his tub, — which caused 
a good many wooden -headed, wooden-shoed mothers 
to hide their offspring, as they did in the time of 
Herod. * 

* The writer has made a mistake here. It was Louis XV, not the 
Dauphin, who was supposed to bathe in the blood of children. The 
rumour was current in 1750, or twenty-four years earlier than the date here 
given, and led to riots which were suppressed with some loss of life, and 
the ringleaders were hanged "on gibbets 40 feet high." See Dareste'a 
History of France, Vol vi, p. 416, 



lO A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

At this time also, a rumour was current in Auvergne 

that young Comte de M had tried to poison his 

father in a dish of eggs and tripe. Whether there 
was any foundation for this terrible charge, I cannot 
say, but it is a fact that all the fathers in Auvergne 
took the matter seriously. Terror reigned under the 
domestic roof, and there was not a son who was 
not suspected of parricidal intentions, and all the 
heads of families talked of living without eating at 
all, for fear of this fatal dish of eggs and tripe. 

Though only sixteen years old, I also came under 
this terrible imputation, and when, at the request or 
order of my father, the family council met, it was 
with no friendly feeling towards me. Without being 
heard in my own defence, — for the verdict was 
intended to be an agreeable surprise to me, I sup- 
pose, — I was accused, tried, and condemned by all 
my relatives, with one exception, — that of my cousin 

german, the Marquis de M , an officer in the First 

Regiment of Cavalry. And it cannot be said either 
that this family meeting was like that of la fausse 
Agnes. ^ There was my uncle, the mattre des 
comptes, my uncle the President de Salaberry, the 

Marquis de R , brigadier-general in the King's 

army, and my wise and respectable cousin M. Th , 

captain in the guards. I do not remember what 
other notabilities were present, except my belle 
tante, wheezing up and down the corridor, and my 

* An allusion to a once well-known comedy by Destouches, acted 
at the Com^die Fran^aise in 1759. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. I I 

father, emptying the vials of his paternal wrath, and 
presiding over the proceedings. My cousin the 

Marquis de M , a young soldier accustomed to 

courts-martial, and knowing how to proportion the 
punishment to the offence, was the only one who 
refused to lightly consign to imprisonment, — perhaps 
for life, — a lad of sixteen. I will, however, do my 
other relatives the justice to acknowledge that they 
were sorry afterwards: this they have all since 
proved to me, — all save my aunt, who has never 
spoken to me, and whom I have never asked. May 
God judge her. 

It is nevertheless true that, thanks to my kind 
relations, not one of whom would willingly have 
done a wrong or an injustice to any person, the 
following royal order was issued against me. 

" ist February, 1775. 

" The Chevalier de Pontgibaud, being of a fierce 
and violent character, and re/using to do zvork of 
any kind, is to be taken to Saint Lazare, at the 
expense of his father." 

But in the margin of the royal order, — which I 
have seen in the register preserved in the archives, — 
is written, "Transferred to Pierre-en-Cize, 19th 
February, 1775." It is clear also, from the date, 
that the lettre de cachet must have been signed " La 
Vrilliere," for his successor, M. de Malesherbes, 



12 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

would certainly have refused to put his name to it. * 
Where were human justice, a father's wisdom, the 
voice of nature, and the ties of blood? And yet I 
can honestly aver that my relatives, who all belonged 
to a high rank of society, were the best meaning 
people in the world, — all gentleness, and kindness, — 
though, perhaps, I should add, except tow^ards me, 
and except on that occasion. That was the sad 
effect of prejudice. If you have respectable, well- 
to-do people for your judges, they may be mistaken 
like anyone else ; and their judgments are severe, 
and not always just. 

Accordingly you see that, on the sole charge 
of having, — at sixteen, — " a fierce and violent character, 
and refusing to do any kind of work," I found 
myself on the igth February, 1775, on the road from 
Paris to Lyon, or, more strictly speaking, on the 
road to Pierre-en-Cize. The child had by his side 
his nurse, — I mean a gendarme, — and before him 
the pleasant prospect of remaining locked up for 
the remainder of his life. 

* De Malesherbes never issued an order unless good cause was shown, 
and released many of the persons who had been imprisoned by his 
predecessors. He had, at the date given, been Minister for the last three 
months, but being busily engaged in putting to rights the State finances, 
was probably unable to look after other affairs. The Due de La Vrilliere 
allowed his mistress to do quite an extensive business in lettres de cachet, 
and she would sell a blank form (which the purchaser could fill in 
according to taste) for 50 louis. 




CHAPTER 11. 

Eighteen months in prison — A plan of escape successfully carried 

out — Armed resistance — Sheltered by a Lyons merchant 

Arrival in Aiivergne — A family compact— A compromise 
effected— Departure to join the, so-called, " insurgent army" 
in America. 

In order that the intelligent reader may follow 
my narrative with interest, it is indispensable that 
I should here describe the castle of Pierre-en-Cize, 
the residence that I had taken on a long lease, or 
rather for an indefinite period, and of which I was 
an unwilling tenant. I must first though say some- 
thing of the locality. 

In Piganiol de la Force (see his Description of 
France) we find : " Pierre-en-Cize, or Pierre-Seise, 
a castle of France, and a State prison, near the 
Saone, and opposite Lyon. There are in this castle 
a captain on half pay, a company of thirty infantry 
soldiers, a lieutenant, and a sergeant." 

That is all that a historian, a traveller, and a 
poet, could say about Pierre-en-Cize,— not having 
had an opportunity of examining the place closely. 
To properly describe the castle, one ought to have 



14 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

lived there, and been a State prisoner there, as I 
have been, but I do not think it likely that anyone 
will envy me my knowledge, considering how it was 
attained. 

The castle of Pierre-en-Cize was the country 
house of the Archbishops of Lyon, and as far as 
situation and outlook are concerned, is a pleasant 
residence enough. It is not like the castle of Lourdes, 
surrounded by cloud-capped peaks, resembling a 
solitary cypress tree in a chaos of rocks, a veritable 
battle-field of the Titans. It is not like Mont St. Michel 
either, where, half the year, every twelve hours, the 
waves beat against the walls of your prison, the 
tempests roll under your feet, and the cry of the 
shipwrecked sailors echoes through the cells. Without 
prejudice, I may say that, as far as the view goes, 
Pierre-en-Cize is infinitely more pleasant, but there 
is no such thing as a nice prison, and, all things 
considered, it must be owned that, — when one is 
behind the bars, — the smiling fields, the harvests, 
the forests, the flocks, the sight of men at liberty, 
though they make a delightful picture, are only an 
added punishment to the poor prisoner. 

Let me now give in my own fashion, and according 
to my own observations, a topographical and pic- 
turesque description of Pierre-en-Cize, internally and 
externally. It may be confidently accepted as cor- 
rect, for I may say with truth, "I have seen." 

The castle is situated on the banks of the Saone, 
as you enter Lyon by the faubourg of Vaize. It 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 15 

stands on a high and steep hill, which you ascend 
by steps cut in the rock. At the main-gate is a 
guard-house, occupied by a company of the Lyonnais 
regiment. — some of them veterans, but a good 
number young soldiers of good conduct, admitted 
into the garrison as a favour. There was no possible 
means of escape this way; moreover, the prisoners 
were only allowed to walk in a portion of the 
courtyard ; the sentinel stopped them if they passed 
the boundary,— a big chestnut tree, which I can 
still see in my mind's eye. 

The castle is a square building, having at the 
north-west corner a very large tower, at the end of 
the courtyard on the right hand side. All the walls 
are very high; that part of the castle which looks 
towards the faubourg of Vaize is to the north-east, 
and is only accessible on that side by a road cut 
in the hill for the purpose of bringing up wood, 
wine, and other provisions and necessaries, which 
are all brought on the backs of mules. Whenever 
anything of this kind arrives, the entire guard turns 
out under arms, and, as long as the gates are open, 
half the soldiers stand outside, and the other half 
just inside, the gateway. But by observing as much 
as I could, I was able to form some idea as to the 
nature of the ground on that side, which had hitherto 
been unknown to me, I having arrived by the gate 
which overlooks the river Saone, by which, as I 
have said before, escape was impossible. 

After having mounted the rock, I was conducted 



I 6 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

through the courtyard, and found myself at the foot 
of the great tower, the situation of which I have 
already described. I was led up a winding staircase 
to a wooden gallery, and locked in cell No. i, close 
to the tower, the circular wall of which formed one 
side of my cell. I found, in this agreeable abode, 
the regulation prison-furniture; a wretched bed, 
pushed against the rounded wall of the tower, a 
chair, a table, and the usual big jar of water. 
Light came from the inside court, through a window 
well garnished with bars, and looking on the gallery. 
Such was my prison, and such were the obstacles 
I should have to surmount in order to get out of 
it, but I had no sooner put my foot inside the 
tower than I resolved to attempt to make my escape, 
and that as soon as I possibly could. The contri- 
vance, the patience, the hard work, and the boldness 
of my escape, which I made in full daylight, and 
with arms in my hand, rendered me somewhat 
celebrated in the history of Pierre-en-Cize. The 
castle was destroyed in the Revolution (in 1791), 
but it is a fact that from 1777 till the time the 
fortress was demolished, every young prisoner who 
was confined there longed to emulate the prowess of 
Pontgibaud. It will be seen that for a prisoner, 
aged only eighteen, to make his escape is a feat of 
which I may be allowed to boast. 

No pupil of Vauban ever made more calculations 
and plans how to get into a stronghold than I did 
how to get out of mine. I said to myself, " This 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 7 

castle is accessible on the side where I am. I ought 
to be able to cut through the wall where it joins 
the tower. The wall and the tower were built at 
different times, and though the facings are in hard 
stone, there is sure to be only rubble between, — 
more particularly in the angle where the straight 
wall joins the round tower. All that is needed is 
time and patience, and that I will have." 

The prisoner who had occupied the cell before 
me had a talent for painting, and a taste for botany. 
He had amused himself by painting all sorts of 
flowers on the walls, and, which was greatly in my 
favour, he had painted a dark blue border, about 
two and a half feet high, all round the room. I 
may note also as a strange freak of chance, that 
this predecessor was a near relative of my aunt. I 
will not say that she had anything to do with his 
imprisonment, for I never inquired the reason of it, 
but at any rate it caused the cell to seem quite like 
a family apartment. The purchase of a quantity of 
blue paper, — the paper in which hair powder is 
usually packed, — was therefore one of my first steps, 
for the sapper required a mantlet behind which he 
could work. Above all, I had need of money. 
Money has been called the sinews of war, and is 
certainly necessary in all great enterprises, and no 
enterprise was greater in my eyes than that which 
absorbed all my thoughts. Virgil has said, 

Quid non mortalia pectora cogis 
Auri sacra fames. 



1 8 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

If he had been in my place he would have said, 
as I did, sacra fa77ies lihertatis. 

I received fifty francs a month, to enable me to 
supplement my scanty fare with better food, and 
hire books. I found means to augment this scanty 
income by copying music in the daytime. The Am- 
phions of Lyon had many a score from my hand, 
and I had their money ; they were, without knowing 
it, half accomplices in my escape. I procured some 
cardboard, with which I made shutters to my win- 
dow, because at ten o'clock the sentinel ordered us 
to put out our lights. I bought, under various pre- 
texts, some small knives, and as we were supplied 
with wood for the winter, I manufactured out of the 
largest faggots, short levers intended to make an 
opening through the wall, without any noise, by 
working with them between the stones. I also pro- 
cured, through the help of my laundress, some bul- 
lets, gunpowder, and a double-barrelled pistol. Trust 
in women, and you will never have cause to repent 
it. If they consent to help you, they will never be- 
tray you, and they will keep your secret as they 
would keep their own. This is not always the case 
with men. If there is cited against me the mother 
of Papirius Praetextatus, I will reply with the name 
of Epicharis * ; and as regards men my worthy 
laundress wa^ more discreet than Turenne. 

* Epicharis, a. freed woman of bad repute, who conspired against Nero. 
When the plot was discovered she was horribly tortured but would not re- 
veal the names of her accompUces. She strangled herself with her girdle 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 19 

I had now nothing to do but set to work. The 
angle made by the wall and the tower was con- 
cealed by my bed. I commenced to tunnel at this 
spot, taking care not to surpass the limit of the 
blue paint. My paper, which was of the same 
colour, covered and concealed my sapping. I 
worked four hours every night. I was careful to 
sweep away all signs of work, and to neatly re- 
place the blue paper before my "gate of safety." 
As to the rubbish I took out, I carefully carried it 
in handkerchiefs, and easily disposed of it by throw- 
ing it down the latrine used by the prisoners. This 
was at the foot of the staircase inside the tower. 
My cell was No. i, and being so close to the stairs, 
I could descend twenty times a day widiout being 
noticed, and, by a lucky chance also, the cesspool 
was a sort of well of great depth. 

My labour was greatly lessened by the fact that 
the wall,— as I had hoped,— did not join the tower 
in the centre, there was a gap of two or three 
inches ; and throughout the whole of my labours, 
in digging through a waU nine or ten feet thick,' 
I only met with one very large stone. It caused 
me some disappointment, and led me to take counsel 
with myself. This huge stone presented an acute 
angle towards me. I attacked the wall round it, 
but with no great hope of success. Judge of my 

to escape further torture. The "mother of Praetextatus " is, I suppose, 
the person mentioned in Livy VI., 32-38, but if so the comparison is 
not well chosen. ED. 



20 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

joy and surprise when I felt it yield under my poor 
little lever, like a loose tooth. I soon had the 
happiness to lay it bare, and then drag it out of 
my mole-run. I did not think of breaking it up, 
but hid it, as it was, in my mattress. It was found 
there later on, and figured in the report on my 
escape; but it did not tend to make my bed feel 
any the more comfortable. The first part of the 
work was the most difficult, because the nine or 
ten inches of plaster I had to get though, pre- 
vented my seeing the real positions of the stones, 
which I had then to attack very warily for fear 
that they should bring down with them, when tliey 
fell, some of the plaster above the line of blue 
paint. I made my tunnel so that, when I had 
crawled in on my stomach, I could then draw 
up my legs, and sit like a journeyman tailor. 
The light to work by, I obtained in the best way 
I could, by converting pomade pots into lamps, 
filling them with lard, and inserting a bit of wick. 

The "solution of continuity," existing between the 
wall and the tower, allowed me to respire the exter- 
nal air, which was a great relief to me. I calculated 
that I had still nearly four feet of masonry to cut 
through, and that I was about half through my work, 
when, about eleven o'clock or midnight, I heard a 
voice pronounce these terrible words: 

" Look, papa, there is a light at the foot of the 
castle tower." 

The words were uttered by a little boy, the son 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 21 

of the gardener. My blood ran cold; I put my 
hand over my little lamp, but the burn and the 
fright were the worst that was to happen to me. 
The worthy man thought that the child was mis- 
taken, and so I was saved. 

The work was at last finished; — it had occupied 
me forty-five nights. What thoughts crowded in 
upon me. This wall ten feet thick was now nothing 
for me but a thin partition of a few inches ; with a 
kick, or a push with my shoulder, I could throw 
down the feeble barrier which separated me from 
the world and from liberty. But then what should 
I do when I was free? I was without means, — for 
I had but six francs in my pocket. Then, should 
I make my escape alone? Would it not be more 
honourable to set at liberty all my companions in 
misfortune, as well as myself. They must be all 
innocent, for they said they were. What a debt 
they would owe me for the rest of their lives, and 
besides, if we were attacked we should be able to 
defend ourselves. 

I resolved on adopting this noble -idea, but I 
would say nothing beforehand, — for fear I should 
be betrayed. 

I suspended my labours the following day, and 
when we re-entered the castle to be locked up in 
our several cells, I told five or six of the prisoners 
to come to No. i as soon as the doors were opened 
in the morning, and I would inform them of a 
certain means of escape. 



2 2 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

I could not get them all out at night; it would 
be necessary to break through all the walls which 
separated the cells, with all the chances of being 
discovered or betrayed, but the regulations of the 
prison greatly favoured another plan. 

Our cell doors were opened at precisely seven 
o'clock every morning, and our food was brought 
to us at ten ; thus there were three hours during 
which nobody paid any attention to us. 

The night before the projected attempt it was im- 
possible for me to close my eyes, with such in- 
quietude and impatience did I await the appointed hour. 
I will even confess that several times I was tempted 
to make my escape alone, but I resisted the thought. 
When the breach was opened, I did not know what 
height I should have to descend, therefore, during 
the night, I cut up my sheets and linen to make a 
rope if necessary. 

At last the hour struck, the lock turned, and the 
gaoler entered, and wished me good day, as usual. 
My live comrades soon appeared ; one of them said 
to me, in a mocking voice, 

"Well, let us know this fine plan." 

"The plan," I replied, "is in this corner, behind 
this wall — which is only paper. Let us make haste. " 

" Is it possible ? " they cried. 

* He found this hole ready made. — It is not fin- 
ished. What is there gained by that?" 

**It is not finished — but it can be with a single 
push. — Let those who love me follow me." 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 23 

We fastened my sheets to the leg of my bed ; I 
took the end of this hastily devised cord, and entered 
the narrow passage. I was in a nankeen vest, and 
had in my pockets six cartridges, a double-barrelled 
pistol, and a strong " spring-back " knife. I cannot 
describe my emotion. I trembled all over with hope 
and fear. Someone behind me cried, "Make haste." 
In a few moments I had pushed down the wall, 
which was only a thin partition of stones, but the 
opening was so narrow that two or three minutes, — 
which seemed to my impatience like two or three 
centuries, for there was not a moment to lose, — 
elapsed before I could get my shoulders free. At 
the sound of the stones rattling down, the gardener, 
who was at work below, ran to his cottage, built 
against the castle wall, and rang the alarm bell. 
The guard turned out, and took up their position on 
the very spot I should have to pass, for it would 
take me eight or ten minutes to descend to the foot 
of the tower, and I should then find myself between 
the castle gates and the soldiers. 

One prisoner alone, M. de L , dared to follow 

me, — the others recoiled at the sight of danger, — 
but my comrade was only armed with a broomstick 
pointed at both ends. The tocsin sounded, and all 
the windows which looked out on this side of the 
castle were filled with spectators. The major com- 
manding the castle came running out in his drawers, 
and with bare legs, and crying, " Load your arms ! " 
He ordered me to go back, and threatened that I 



24 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

should be fired on if I did not. My only reply was 
to present my pistol, and order him to go back 
himself. 

The major ran away, crying, " Fire on the scoundrels ! " 
I fancy I can still see the old sergeant, who was 
a friend of mine, his musket levelled, but trembling 
in his hands, and hear him beg of me to go back. 
I took no notice ; we were at fifteen paces from each 
other. I advanced boldly — ten or twelve muskets 
went off at the same moment; — I replied with a 
single shot and charged furiously into the midst of 
them. I heard on all sides cries of " Bravo ! Bravo !" 
and applause at the windows. I was assailed with 
the butts of muskets, and received blows of which 
my ribs showed the marks for long afterwards; my 
vest was nearly torn off, and my hair pulled out. 

My poor comrade De L was wounded and thrown 

down, after having knocked out the eye of one of 
the soldiers, and bitten the finger of another ; — they 
all threw themselves upon him, and — I was saved. 

Incidit in Scyllam, — I was in a narrow lane be- 
tween two walls, which I did not dare to leap, 
being closely pursued by the youngest soldiers of 
the troop, who were crying behind me, " Stop ! Stop !" 
I presented my weapon at all who tried to bar my 
passage, and received more bows and salutes than 
I have ever had either before or since. The road, 
which was tortuous, was nearly a quarter of a league 
long, or at least seemed so to me. Hearing no 
more cries of "Stop! Stop!" I rested for a few 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 25 

minutes, and reloaded my pistol, when all of a 
sudden there appeared within ten paces of me, four 
soldiers who had pursued me for the sake of the 
reward. I put my back against the wall, and they 
stopped short. 

" Well, sir, " said one of tliem, " you see you are 
caught, — you can't go any further. It was good of 
you to try to save all the others; — if they had all 
been as brave as you they would have succeeded, 
but they were cowards. Come back, sir; you run 
no risk, and your relations will soon take you out 
of prison. Besides, you haven't hurt anybody ; it was 

the Marquis de L who wounded tw^o of our 

men." 

I listened quietly till they had finished, for I 
wanted to regain my breath. Then I replied, 

"Go away! I don't want to hurt you, but I 
swear that I will never be taken alive. There are 
four of you, and I can rely on killing at lea.st two.** 
And with that I held out my pistol in one hand, 
and my knife in the other. 

They looked at me a minute, and then one said, 

** Good-bye. You are a brave young fellow. 
A pleasant journey, and good luck to you ;" and 
they went away. 

I also ran off, but without exactly knowing where 
I was going. The clang of the alarm bell, and 
the firing, had already caused rumours to be in 
circulation about me, and the name of the pri- 
soner, and his bold escape, were known in Vaize. 



26 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

Women came to their doors, and cried, " Come 
in, sir, and we will conceal you." But I had no 
intention of stopping ; I was too near the terrible 
prison, and I ran away faster than ever, but the 
voices of these women sank into my soul ; though 
I had not had time to glance at one of them, I 
fancied that every woman who had oifered to con- 
ceal me must be beautiful, — for did she not feel for 
my distresses, and wish to relieve them? 

Marcelines, Suzannes, Comtesse Almavivas, I saw 
you all, — mentally ; and I would have kissed you 
all, — but I had no time. 

The houses began to get fewer and fewer, as I 
ran on, and at last I came to a small copse of trees 
and thick underwood, which would aiFord me a re- 
fuge. In the centre was a grass-plot a few yards 
square, and my first act was to throw myself on 
the grass and take some rest. 

Profound silence reigned all round ; I enjoyed 
the delightful sensation of breathing the pure air 
of liberty, of which I had been so long deprived. 
In the midst of all my thoughts, the ruling idea 
was pride. I thought that my escape would give 
me some notoriety, and perhaps be useful to me in 
the future, if I should adopt the military profession ; 
but my thoughts then reverted to the question of 
the moment, what should I do? I did not know 
where I was; my only coat was a thin nankeen, 
badly torn in my fight, I had no hat, and my 
legs were bleeding from the thorns amidst which 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 27 

I had fallen when I descended the tower. What 
with my rags covered with blood, and my wild, 
haggard appearance, I must have looked like a poor 
devil who had been in the wars, and not got the 
best of it. My good angel, however, directed me 
to a respectable-looking house at a little distance, 
and I saw, walking in front of it, a person whom I 
imagined to be the proprietor. It was then about 
nine o'clock in the morning, and as it was July, 
the weather was very warm. I made up my mind 
on the spot, and advanced towards this unknown 
personage, who, luckily for me, turned out to be 
one of the best-natured men in the world — a M. 
Bontems, a merchant, of the Rue jMerciere, Lyon. 
I have since been happy to acknowledge and repay 
the service he rendered me. 

He did not see me till I was within eight or ten 
yards of him. He was a good-looking man, with 
a florid complexion, but at the sight of me he 
became deadly pale, and trembled. He kept his 
eyes fixed on the butt of the pistol, which was stick- 
ing out of my pocket, and stood motionless without 
the power to say a word. 

"Pray be easy, my good sir," I said, " and listen 
to what I have to say. Never mind the horrible 
condition in which I am. I am the happiest man 
in the world, for I have just acquired my liberty; 
the alarm bell which is ringing up there, and which 
you can hear distinctly, is sounding on my account. 
I have got out of Pierre-en-Cize, and my body 



28 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

must be as black as a negro's from the blows I 
received in my fight \Wth the castle guard. This 
house belongs to you, I suppose. Give me shelter 
till nightfall, for I am worn out with fatigue and 
hunger. I would hand over to you this minute the 
weapon which so much terrifies you, if I did not 
fear to be surprised without any means of defence. 
If you are humane enough to take me in, show me 
some way of getting into the house without being 
perceived. " 

The worthy man was touched by my address, and 
the trust I reposed in him, and showed me a way 
through his garden by which I could enter the house 
without being seen by anyone. M. Bontems led 
me into a room on the ground floor, where his old 
mother was sitting. She was quite as frightened 
as her son, but began to weep when I recounted 
my adventures. They brought me some refreshments, 
of which I had sore need. 

My host meanwhile took the very natural precau- 
tion of sending to Lyon, and the neighbourhood of 
the castle, to know why the alarm bell was ring- 
ing. My statements were confirmed, and everybody 
was speaking highly of me, because I had nearly 
fallen a victim to my own generosity in endeavour- 
ing to set the other prisoners at liberty. M. Bon- 
tems, being perfectly satisfied as to the truth of my 
story, offered to be of service to me in any way. 
He wished to conceal me in his house, but I would 
not accept this kindness. I asked him only to fur- 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 29 

nish me with some clothes and a hat, and procure 
me a horse, and a guide, so that I might start that 
night by the old Lyon road, which is little frequented, 
and by which I could get home to my father's 
house,— a distance of but thirty leagues. M. Bon- 
tems procured me all I asked, and supplied me 
with the money necessary for my journey. You 
may imagine my affection and gratitude, when I 
said farewell to this worthy man and his good old 
mother. 

I left this hospitable roof, and made my way 
towards Clermont. 

The future was before me. I did not look back, 
for I should have seen that cursed castle, the very 
recollection of which made me shiver, for past dangers 
make more impression on the mind than present 
perils. Except for some vague misgivings, which 
I could not prevent, I made the journey peaceably 
enough, but I reflected that as my father would not 
expect to see me, there was a risk that my sudden 
appearance would give him a shock, which, consider- 
ing his great age, might be dangerous, and for 
which I should always reproach myself. I thought 
it wise, therefore, to stop at the house of a friend 
of our family, who lived two leagues from Pontgi- 

baud. When I arrived at the Chateau d'A , there 

was a large gathering of friends and visitors. My 
adventures were not yet known to anyone in 
Auvergne. It was as though I fell from the clouds, 
for certainly no one expected me, for all knew that 



30 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

I was in Pierre-en-Cize, though my poor old father 
sometimes asked himself why I was there. 

It was a really dramatic situation ; the servants — 
almost a second family in the distant parts of the 
country — surrounded me, and I arrived in the salon 
in the midst of them. It was crowded with people 
who all began to ask questions, and I did not know 
what to reply to all these men and women, young 
and old. Some laughed at my dress, some of the 
women cried when they heard my story, and all 
were interested in it. It was quite a picture: I felt 
like Telemachus relating his adventures in the cave 
of Calypso, but with the difference that there was 
nothing fabulous in my story. All the neighbours, 
men as well as women, masters as well as servants, 
had tears in their eyes, for at tliat time French 
people had not learned, — as they did later, in the 
school of the Revolution, — how to harden their hearts 
to distress. 

All approved of my foresight in not presenting 
myself to my father until he had been prepared for 
my coming, and the master of the house undertook 
that duty. A welcome proposal was also made to 
me the same evening. I learned that England was 
at war with her American colonies; I heard also 
that the Marquis de la Fayette, who belonged to 
our province, had already made himself talked about, 
and it was suggested that it would be a good thing 
for me to join him and fight under his orders. I 
snapped at the idea enthusiastically, and my ambas- 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 3 1 

sador went to arrange the matter with my father. 

M. d'A presented himself, let out the story by 

degrees, and made his old friend acquainted with 
all my adventures down to the minutest detail. There 
is generally a touch of the ludicrous, even in the 
gravest aifairs. The aged author of my being listened 
very quietly to the history of my almost incredibly 
bold escape. He was no doubt struck by the differ- 
ence in character between my brother, " the good 
young man," and me, "the bad lot," and remem- 
bering his young days when he was a musketeer, 
he said, with a smile, 

" Ah, the rascal ! Well, my friend, I'll tell you what 
it is. If I had locked up my elder son, instead of 
my younger, — he would have stopped there for ever." 
Peace was concluded, and all the conditions were 
granted, with one exception. My father steadfastly 
refused to see me ; — not that he was angry with me, 
for his wrath had completely disappeared, but from 
quite another motive. He was an old soldier, and 
knew the rules of the service. He remarked that 
I had fired upon the King's soldiers, which might 
get me into trouble, and he did not wish to be 
exposed to the unpleasantness of seeing the gen- 
darmes visit the chateau to search for me. 

It was decided that I should start for North 
America ; that my father should make me an allow- 
ance of 100 louis a year; and that 2000 crowns 
should be counted down to me at the port where 
I embarked. 



32 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

I left at once for La Rochelle, with a letter of 
recommendation to M. Seigneur, commissaire of 
artillery. 

It might have been expected that I should obtain 
a passage without any difficulty, but I w^as obliged 
to go to Nantes. Only two days after my arrival 
at La Rochelle, orders were received by the military 

commander. Baron de M , to arrest me. What 

a debt of gratitude do I owe him ! He was kind 
enough to cause a hint to be conveyed to M. Seig- 
neur to get me out of the way. 

I left therefore for Nantes with a letter of recom- 
mendation from M. Seigneur to M. de Ville-Helis, 
the government outfitter. I shall always remember 
the hearty welcome he gave me. He kindly in- 
terested himself in all the details of my situation ; 
gave me some excellent advice how to lay out my 
money, and the means to augment my resources 
by the purchase of goods likely to be required in 
the country to which I was going. Finally, he 
procured — and at a very low rate — a passage on 
the ship Arc-en- del, fitted out by Messrs. Minier 
and Struckman, and recommended me to the care 
of the captain. And so I sailed for the New 
World. 




CHAPTER III. 

Wrecked in Chesapeake Bay — Williamsburg — Mr. Jefferson — 
Aspect of the country between Williamsburg and the Camp 
at Valley Forges — Description of the American Army — 
Welcomed by Marquis de la Fayette — He appoints me his 
aide-de-camp — My mission to the Oneida Indians — American 
ideas of the French — TTie Camp at Valley Forges — General 
Howe's dog — Attempted sortie of the British Army from 
Philadelphia — The passage of the Schuylkill and return — 
Our afnbulance siirgeon — Evacuation of Philadelphia — Defeat 
at Rareton Rivers — Battle and Victory at Monm.outh — New 
York blockaded — Arnold's treason — Arrest, trial., and exe- 
ctction of Major Andre — The Earl of Carlisle and Margit/s 
de la Fayette — Comte d'Estaing before New York — Siege 
of Newport., Rhode Island, by Gen. Sullivan — / am charged 
with the re-victualling of the Freiuh fleet — The siege of 
Newport raised — Our departure for France on board the 
frigate ^^ Alliance" — A storm and its consequences — Mutiny 
on board — Capture of a British cruiser — Arrival at Brest. 

Our voyage, which was a very bad one, lasted 
sixty-seven days. We met with a heavy storm off 
the Bermudas, and were often chased by British 
cruisers. At last we came in sight of Capes Charles 
and Henry at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay. 
As it was then almost night-fall the captain tacked 

II 3 



34 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

about, intending to enter the Bay next morning. 

We then had a good wind behind us, and we hoped, 

but in vain, for a pilot to come off and take us in. 

The fear of being captured, however, made the 

captain determine to enter the Bay, which is very 

large. The destination of the vessel was Baltimore, 

but we were obliged to run into James River. The 

morning was very foggy, and we could not see 

more than a hundred yards or so. A few minutes 

later the fog lifted, the sun came out, and we found 

ourselves within a couple of cannon shot of the Isis, 

a British war vessel of 64 gims, which was moored 

at the entrance to the river. We might have run 

ashore on the coast, and the Isis could not have 

come near us as the wind was against her, but our 

captain lost his head and gave no orders, so we 

drifted within range of the Isis, and then went 

aground near the shore. The British being now 

convinced we were enemies, began to fire on us. 

All the shore pirates of the district at once em- 
barked to pillage us, and a scene of terrible disorder 
ensued. These sea wolves, nearly all negroes or 
mulattos, and numbering, as near as I could guess, 
about sixty, came on board under the pretext of 
saving the vessel, but they cared more for pillage 
than salvage, for they staved in casks of wine and 
brandy, and the greater part of them were soon 
very drunk. I noticed that their boats were secured 
to the ship by thin cords, so I quickly engaged a 
boy and one of our sailors to help me to bring up 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 35 

from the cabin my trunk which contained my goods, 
—alas! all my fortune,— and my other effects We 
threw these into a boat belonging to one of the 
Lestrigons, whilst the owner was engaged in drink- 
ing and stealing, then we jumped in ourselves, cut 
the rope, and in a very few minutes were on shore. 
The bullets whistled over our heads, but we were 
safe, and I had, moreover (as I thought), preserved 
all my property. Seated on my tnink, with my 
feet on the shore of America, I watched the total 
destruction of our ship, which was accomplished in 
a very few hours. We did not know what to do, 
or where to go, for we could not tell in which 
direction any houses lay. We could not speak the 
language, and we could not see any of the inhabitants 
of the country. At last several of the boats belonging 
to the robbers arrived, loaded with booty taken from 
the ship. Some of our sailors were in the boats 
The leader of the pirates sent to the neighbouring 
town of Hampton for wagons, and when they came 
packed in them all which had been brought to shore 
includmg my trunk and all that belonged to the 
passengers. I heard, however, the words, "Public 
Magazine," and that reassured me a little for I 
imagined that when all the passengers were 'assem- 
bled, each would be allowed to claim and take 
away his own property. 

In two or three days the crew got together 
except two killed, and one or two drowned, and 
the doors of the Public Magazine were opened for 



36 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

US. My eyes filled with joy at again beholding the 
trunk which contained all my riches. The key was 
in my pocket ; I approached my trunk, but, alas ! 
found that the padlock had been broken off, the 
lock forced, and, instead of the fine Dutch linen 
upon which I expected to make such a profit, I 
found only sail covers, stones, and a few rags of sails. 

You may imagine my distress. I was thousands 
of miles from home, with no property except the 
clothes on my back, and no money except the nine 
or ten louis I chanced to have in my pocket. 

Being weak and fatigued by the long voyage 
and its exciting incidents, I rested for a day or 
two, but not wishing to expend all my slender stock 
of money in an inn at Hampton, I set off to join 
the army, and, in order to get information, I first 
directed my steps towards Williamsburg, the capital 
of Virginia, about twenty or twenty-five miles dis- 
tant from my starting point. 

I was sure that, when once I had joined the army, 
I should run no risk by dying of hunger at all 
events; but it was a long way to the camp, and I 
did not know within a trifling matter of a hundred 
miles or so, where the head-quarters then were. 
Besides there were forests to pass through, and I was 
not sure whether I might not meet with bears, 
panthers, or rattlesnakes — at least that was what 
I had to expect if I believed all the books of travel 
I had read whilst I was in prison. I foresaw that 
I should often have to sleep under the stars, which, 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 37 

in the month of November, is neither safe nor pleas- 
ant in any country remote from the equator, and 
I was also doubtful as to whether I should find a 
dinner every day. With thoughts like these, but 
with no anxiety as to my baggage, I started off on 
the road — which was only a worn path— to Wil- 
liamsburg. 

There I found some Frenchmen, for they are to 
be met with everywhere. They provided me with 
a map of the country and I planned out my route. 
I learned that the army was camped at Valley Forges, 
three leagues from Philadelphia, and that there I 
should find the Marquis de la Fayette. It was a 
long journey to make on foot. I related the story 
of my shipwreck on the coast of Chesapeake Bay, 
and, as advice costs nothing, everybody was ready 
to give it, and all recommended me to complain 
to Mr. Jefferson, then governor of Virginia, of the 
robbery of my effects. 

After my experience in the Old World, and more 
recent vicissitudes in the New, I was not inclined 
to be too hopeful, but, to ease my mind, I called 
on the governor, accompanied by an interpreter. 
I found that Mr. Jefferson had been informed of our 
misfortunes. He expressed his regret tliat in such 
troublous times as we were then in, it was impossible 
for him to pay me the compensation to which I was 
entitled. In my presence he ordered his secretary 
to give me a certificate. This curious document 
was in English, which I could neither speak nor 



36 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

read, but later on I was able to peruse the document. 
The governor terminated his passport by recommend- 
ing me to the charity of all with whom I might 
meet! 

What freaks fortune had played with me. At 
nineteen years of age I had escaped from Pierre-en- 
Cize, — two months later had been shipwrecked a 
thousand leagues from home,— had been robbed of 
all I possessed, on a friendly shore, by the very 
persons I had come to help to regain their liberty, — 
and now I was trudging on foot to the head-quarters 
of the army, the bearer of a licence to beg on the 
road. Fortunately the little money I had sufficed, and 
I was not obliged to take adv^antage of the charitable 
verb " to assist " , slipped in for my special benefit 
at the foot of the passport. 

From Williamsburg to the camp at Valley Forges, 
near Philadelphia, is not less than 200 miles, and it 
must not be supposed that it required any super- 
human effort to accomplish that. There was plenty 
of mud to be found — but that I expected; the 
weather was not always fine, for it rained often — 
in the months of November and December it rains 
even in France. In the midst of all these discomforts, 
which I foresaw would have an end, the know- 
ledge that I was free sustained me, and comforted 
me. Moreover, I was young, and had health and 
strength. It is not astonishing therefore that I found 
at every step something fresh to drive away sad 
thoughts. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 39 

Birds unknown in France enlivened my view, 
and made me admire the richness and variety of 
their plumage, and in the almost continuous forest 
through which I had to pass, I was never tired of 
watching the thousands of little squirrels which 
leaped from bough to bough and tree to tree 
round me. 

My baggage consisted of a single shirt. I had in 
my pocket a flask which I filled with gin (when- 
ever I could get it) and in another pocket a hunk 
of bad maize bread. I had also five louis in my 
purse and a passport, signed "Jefferson." 

Sand and forest, forest and sand, formed the 
whole way from Williamsburg to the camp at Val- 
ley Forges. I do not remember how many days 
I took to accomplish this difficult journey. Being 
badly fed, as a natural consequence I walked 
badly, and passed at least six nights under the 
trees through not meeting with any habitation. 
Not knowing the language, I often strayed from 
the right road, which was so much time and labour 
lost. At last, early in November, I arrived at Val- 
ley Forges. 

The American army was then encamped three or 
four leagues from Philadelphia, which city was 
then occupied by the British, who were rapidly ful- 
filHng the prophecy of Dr. Franklin. 

That celebrated man— an ambassador who amused 
himself with science, which he adroitly made 
to assist him in his diplomatic work — said, when 



40 A I-/<tN(JI VOl.lJN'iKKK 

Moin*'; fririid'i r .uim: to I'.ihsy to condole witlj liiin on 
(he I. ill <»f riiil.idrlplii.i, "You .ire mistakrin ; it i» 
not the hritish army lh.it has taken I'hiladelphiji, 
but l*hila<le||)hia thai lias tak(tn the Hritish army." 
The cunning; old dijilonjatist was ri^dit. The capi- 
tal of I'enn.sylvania had alnsidy doiui for tho liri- 
tlhh what ('a|)iia did in a lew months for th(^ 
soldiers ol llannihal. I Iw Americans, the " insnr- 
j|<;nts" as tlw^y w<^re ( all<*(|, camp<Ml .ii Valley 
l«'()rj^(vs; tli(^ Hrilish officers, who w(;re ni Ihe city, 
^avo ilnniselveH up lo |)leasiire, there wore con- 
tinual h.dls and nili( j anmscunents; thc! troo|)s woro 
idle and enerv.ded hy in. k lion, and the ^(^m^raln 
niwlerlook nothing all tin* winter. 

Soon I c.ime in sij^ht ol the < .nnp. My imaj.^i- 
nati<»n had piflnitd .m .irniy with (miforms, tho 
^•|itl<*r of arms, •vi.md.irds, etc., in sh(»rt, military 
pomp ol all r.orts. Instead ol the imposing sp(H> 
l.iele I expected, I s.iw, ^',rouped together or staiid- 
\ny\ .don(% a lew nnliti.i nn-n, |)oorly clad, land for 
the mo',1 part without shoos; in. my of them badly 
.nnird, IhiI .dl wril ,snpj)lie(l with provisions, an<l I 
noticed that tea .md •.u).';.n- lornnMl part of their 
rations. I did nol tin n know that this was not 
unusual, and I laughed, for it made me think of 
th(^ recruiting r.ei ^mmuIs on the Ouai de la l*'erraille 
at Paris, who ,'uiy to the yok(^Is, " You will want 
lor nothing when you are in the regiment, l)ut if 
bread should run short you nui.st n<»t mind eatin)^' 
eakott." Ilen^ the soldiers had tea and su)^ar. In 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 4 1 

passing through the camp I also noticed soldiers 
wearing cotton night-caps under their hats, and 
some having for cloaks or great-coats, coarse wool- 
len blankets, exactly like those provided for the 
patients in our French hospitals. I learned after- 
wards that these were the officers and generals. 

Such, in strict truth, was, — at the time I came 
amongst them, — the appearance of this armed mob, 
the leader of whom was the man who has rendered 
the name of Washington famous; such were the 
colonists, — unskilled warriors who learned in a few 
years how to conquer the finest troops that England 
could send against them. Such also, — at the be- 
ginning of the War of Independence, — was the 
state of want in the insurgent army, and such was 
the scarcity of money, and the poverty of that 
government, now so rich, powerful, and prosperous, 
that its notes, called Continental Paper Money, were 
nearly valueless, like our own assignats in 1795. 

Impressed by these sights, which had quite de- 
stroyed my illusions, I made my way through this 
singular army to the quarters of Marquis de la 
Fayette. 

This young general was then, I believe, not more 
than 20 or 21 years of age. I presented myself to 
him, and told him frankly my whole story. He 
listened to my history with attention and kindness, 
and at my request enrolled me as a volunteer. He 
also wrote to France and before long received a 
reply confirming the truth of my statements; he 



42 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

then appointed me one of his aides-de-camp, with 
the rank of Major, and from that moment never 
ceased to load me with benefits and marks of con- 
fidence. The Marquis de la Fayette presented me 
as his aide-de-camp to the commander-in-chief. 
Washington was intended by nature for a great 
position, — his appearance alone gave confidence to 
the timid, and imposed respect on the bold. He 
possessed also those external advantages which a 
man born to command should have; tall stature, a 
noble face, gentleness in his glance, amenity in his 
language, simplicity in his gestures and expressions. 
A calm, firm bearing harmonized perfectly with these 
attributes. This general, who has since become so 
celebrated for his talents and successes, was just 
beginning to play that important part in history 
that he has since so gloriously sustained, in every 
capacity, military, civil, and political. But I intend 
here only to speak of the general. 

He was surrounded by his officers, who for the 
most part were, like me, on their first campaign. 
Many of them had been far fi-om imagining, a short 
time before, that they were intended for a military 
career. I saw, standing near the Commander in 
Chief, Gates, the victor at Saratoga, a small man, 
about fifty years of age: two years before that he 
was merely a rich farmer, yet quiet and simple as 
he looked he had made himself a name in history. 
This agriculturist turned soldier, who was wearing 
on his head a woollen cap surmounted by a farmer's 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 43 

hat, had just received the sword of General Burgoyne, 
who, dressed in full uniform, and with his breast 
covered with all the orders England could give, came 
to him to surrender. 

Near Gates was Arnold, as brave as he was 
treacherous; he was lamed for life by a bullet he 
had received at Saratoga whilst sharing the dangers 
and glories of General Gates. A few months before 
he was a distinguished officer in the army, General 
Arnold was nothing more than a horse-dealer. 
General Lee, however, was a soldier before the War 
of Independence. General SuUivan was a lawyer, 
and when peace was declared he returned, not to 
his plough but to his office. Colonel Hamilton, the 
friend of Washington, when the war was over, also 
became a lawyer, and pleaded at Philadelphia. 
General Stark was the proprietor of a large and well- 
managed estate. Brave General Knox, who com- 
manded the artillery, had, before the war, kept a 
book-store. Under him served Duplessis-Mauduit, 
a brave young officer, only twenty-six years old, 
and of whom I shall often have occasion to speak 
in these pages; — he afterwards perished at Saint- 
Domingo, vilely murdered by his own soldiers. 

I also saw arrive at the mill which serv'ed oiu: 
commander as his head-quarters, Colonel Armand, 
then commanding a troop of light horse. The life 
of this young Frenchman, who was then twenty-^ 
four, had been like mine, adventurous from the 
beginning. He was the nephew of the Marquis de 



44 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

la Beliniese, and had been an officer in the Gardes 
Fran^aises. Having fallen madly in love with Mile 
Beaumesnil, of the Opera, and been refused by her, 
he retired to the Monastery of La Trappe, which 
he left to seek danger by the side of General 
Washington. He had earned some glory and dis- 
tinction under the name of Colonel Armand, and 
was to become more celebrated under the name of 
the Marquis de la Rouarie. 

Lastly I saw there, for the first time. Monsieur 

de P , * who commanded the Engineers, and 

who was afterwards Minister of War to Louis XVI, 
at the beginning of the Revolution. 

Amongst all these officers of different nationalities 
and habits I noticed more particularly the striking 
figure of the man before whom all bowed, as much 
from admiration and respect as from duty. General 
Washington appeared to be about forty. He had 
served in the British army, and as Major Washington 
commanded in 175 — Fort Necessity, when M. de 
Jumonville, a French officer bearing a flag of truce, 
was shot by a private soldier, who did not see the 
white flag, and who fired without orders. Accord- 
ing to all reports it is certain that the commander 
of the fort never gave any order to fire, and the 
most irrefutable proof cf this is the gentleness, mag- 
nanimity, and goodness of General Washington, — 
a character which he never once belied amidst all 
the chances of war, and all the trials of good or 

* See Note B. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 45 

bad fortune. M. Thomas * has deemed it proper and 
patriotic to paint this unfortunate occurrence in the 
worst light, and severely blame the British officer. 
Had the name of Major Washington remained ob- 
scure, it would have been stained with an unde- 
served blot which no one would have thought it worth 
while to remove, but, as it is, any attempt to an- 
swer the charge would be an insult to one of the 
most beautiful and noble characters in history, and 
all suspicions fall to the ground before the name. 
the virtues, and the glory of General Washington. 
The assassin of De Jumonville could never have be- 
come a great man. 

When the war broke out, General Washington 
was the proprietor of a splendid estate in Virginia, 
and he brought with him when he joined the army, 
a number of fine horses. He dressed in the most 
simple manner, without any of the marks distinctive 
of a commanding officer, and he gave away large 
sums to the soldiers, by whom he was adored. But 
all that he gave was from his own purse, for he had 
refused to receive any emoluments from the Govern- 
ment 

I ought to mention to the praise of the Marquis 
de la Fayette, that he followed the example of the 
commander-in-chief, and incurred great expense, 
purchasing with his own money all that was neces- 
sary to clothe, equip, and arm his men. The war 
cost him immense sums, and certainly no one will 

* See Note C. 



46 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

suspect him of any other motive than the noble 
one of glory, for the chances of reimbursement 
were not very probable. His motives were perfectly 
pure, and the enormous sacrifices he made can only 
be accounted for by the love of liberty, and the 
chivalric spirit which will always exist in France ; — 
enthusiasm, love of danger, and a little glory were 
his sole rewards. The pleasure of commanding, 
fighting, and distinguishing himself were of some 
weight in the scale, it is reasonable to conclude, 
but honour and merit were the principal motives. 
The war in America only offered a chance of dan- 
ger, privations, fatigues, and difficulties; the Mar- 
quis de la Fayette was the only one of all the 
young lords of the Court of PVance who had the 
courage and determination to leave the pleasures 
of the palace, and travel eighteen hundred leagues 
to obtain glory without profit. 

Moreover, there was not an opportunity every 
day of acquiring even this much, under General 
Washington. It did not enter into his plans to 
readily engage with the enemy on every opportu- 
nity. He watched his time and chance before he 
struck a blow ; the principle of " armed tempori- 
zation" was his daily study, and, as events have 
proved, he well deserved the title which has been 
claimed for him of the American Fabius. 

The British, occupied in the pleasures which they 
found in Philadelphia, allowed us to pass the winter 
in tranquillity; they never spoke of the camp at 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 47 

Valley Forges except to joke about it, and we for 
our part might almost have forgotten that we were 
in the presence of an enemy if we had not received 
a chance visitor. We were at table at head-quar- 
ters, — that is to say in the mill, which was comfort- 
able enough, — one [day, when a fine sporting dog, 
which was evidently lost, came to ask for some 
dinner. On its collar were the words, General Howe. 
It was the British commander's dog. It was sent 
back under a flag of truce, and General Howe 
replied by a warm letter of thanks to this act of 
courtesy on the part of his enemy, our general. 

When I arrived at the camp I was in a pitiable 
condition, but the Marquis de la Fayette had the! 
extreme kindness to furnish me with the means of 
procuring horses and a suitable equipment. 

A plan was proposed to effect a diversion by 
attacking Canada, where, we were informed, we 
should find few troops to oppose us, and towards 
the middle of January, the Marquis de la Fayette 
went to take command of the troops in the district 
round Albany. 

We made the journey on sledges on the North 
River, and travelled with great speed, but the weather 
was "wickedly cold." One of our companions 
was the brave Duplessis-Mauduit, who was to com- 
mand our artillery. But before undertaking any 
measures we thought it prudent to make a treaty 
with the savage races who live on the borders of 
Canada and New England. 



4^ A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

After resting some days in the town of Albany, 
we went up Mohawk River to the house of Mr. 
Johnston whose residence was close to the huts of 
the various tribes known under the names of Tus- 
caroros, Oneidas, etc. We were prepared with the 
usual presents required to conciliate them, and in 
this case it might be said that little presents cement 
great friendships. Our gifts, which they thought 
magnificent, consisted of woollen blankets, little mir- 
rors, and, above all, plenty of paint, which the sa- 
vages esteem highly and use to paint their faces. 
There was also some gunpowder, lead, and bullets, 
and some silver crowns of six francs bearing the 
effigy of the King of France, who is known to these 
savages, by tradition, as the ''Great Father." 

About two thousand Indians, men and women, 
came to the appointed rendezvous, and thanks to 
our presents and the " fire water " which we distri- 
buted, the treaty was easily concluded. I was very 
anxious to observe the manners and customs of 
these people, who were a great novelty to me, but 
at the end of a few days I had seen quite enough, 
for the European beggar is far less disgusting than 
the American savage. Their numbers are diminish- 
ing rapidly from various causes. 

We found amongst them an old soldier who had 
belonged to the Marquis de Montcalm's army. This 
man had become a savage; he had almost entirely 
forgotten French, and lived like the Indians, except 
that he had not let them cut his ears, which is the 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 49 

sign of a warrior. "We left these tribes equally- 
satisfied on both sides. The projected attack on 
Canada was postponed, for some reason of which I 
am ignorant, and we returned to the Camp at Valley- 
Forges. 

I remarked, however, that even in treating with 
these children of nature, there was a reciprocal dis- 
trust and an impression that caution was the mother 
of safety, for we brought with us fifty of the young 
warriors as a guarantee that the treaty should be 
duly executed, and one of our men remained with 
the Indians as a hostage — it was not I. 

A little later some of these Indians joined our 
army, and I will here note two singular incidents 
concerning them. One day we were at dinner at 
head-quarters; an Indian entered the room, walked 
round the table, and then stretching forth his long 
tattooed arm seized a large joint of hot roast beef 
in his thumb and fingers, took it to the door, and 
began to eat it. We were all much surprised, but 
General Washington gave orders that he was not 
to be interfered with, saying laughingly, that it was 
apparently the dinner hour of this Mutius Scaevola 
of the New World. 

On another occasion a chief came into the room 
where our generals were holding a council of war. 
Washington, who was tall and very strong, rose, 
coolly took the Indian by the shoulders, and put 
him outside the door. The son of the forest did 
not protest; he concluded probably that his eject- 

4 



50 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

ment was a way of expressing by signs that his 
company was not wanted. 

At another time a meeting was appointed with 
the chiefs and warriors belonging to several tribes, 
which resided at great distances from each other in 
different directions. They had to pass through vast 
and thick forests where there were no paths. Though 
without either watch or compass they found their 
road, by means known to themselves alone. The 
meeting was to be on a plain, and it is a fact that 
on the day appointed we heard their songs and cries, 
and saw the various bodies of Indians arrive from 
all sides almost simultaneously. 

I was astonished, on my return, to find what 
peculiar ideas our hosts, the Americans of New 
England, had of the French. One day I dismounted 
from my horse at the house of a farmer upon whom 
I had been billeted. I had hardly entered the good 
man's house when he said to me, 

" I am very glad to have a Frenchman in the 
house." 

I politely enquired the reason of this preference. 

" Well, " he said, " you see the barber lives a long 
way off, so you will be able to shave me." 

" But I cannot even shave myself, " I replied. 
" My servant shaves me, and he will shave you also 
if you like." 

"That's very odd," said he. "I was told that 
all Frenchmen were barbers and fiddlers." 

I think I never laughed so heartily. A few mi- 



OB' THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE 5 1 

nutes later my rations arrived, and my host seeing- 
a large piece of beef amongst them, said, 

" You are lucky to be able to come over to America 
and get some beef to eat." 

I assured him that we had beef in France, and 
excellent beef too. 

" That is impossible, " he replied, " or you wouldn't 
be so thin." 

Such was, — when Liberty was dawning over the 
land, — the ignorance shown by the inhabitants of 
the United States Republic in regard to the French. 
This lack of knowledge was caused by the difficulty 
of intercourse with Europe. Their communications 
were almost entirely cut oif, and even Boston and 
Philadelphia were in the hands of the English; nor 
were the people on the sea-coast in a more advanced 
state of civilization than those of the interior. More 
than a century of progress has been made in less 
than twenty years. I shall hardly be believed now 
when I state that, about this time, one of our men 
having left a pair of jack-boots behind him, the 
Americans were so astonished at them, that they 
placed them, as a curiosity, in the New York Mu- 
seum, where the man who had forgotten them after- 
wards found them ticketed French Boots. 

We returned to the camp at Valley Forges about 
the 15th March. The enemy was still quiet in Phila- 
delphia, dancing and drinking in true English style, 
and deeming themselves perfectly safe. We were 
not sufficiently strorjg to attempt to dislodge them, 



52 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

and were obliged to wait till 15th April, when our 
recruits and reinforcements were to arrive. We re- 
mained inactive till then. The weather was still 
very cold. A peculiarity of the climate of this 
country is that often there is no spring, and owing 
to the absence of one of the most pleasant seasons 
of the year you pass straight from a long and hard 
winter to weather of insupportable heat, which has 
followed, without any intermediate gradations, a 
severe frost. The autumns, on the other hand, are 
I long and very fine. 

By 1 5th April our reinforcements had arrived, and 
we were preparing to open the campaign when we 
learned, with as much surprise as pleasure, that the 
British army had received orders to evacuate Phi- 
ladelphia and fall back on New York. Their army 
was composed of veteran soldiers, was superior to 
us in numbers, and, moreover, protected by entrench- 
ments. We imagined that the Cabinet at London 
had probably heard of the expected arrival of the 
squadron under Comte d'Estaing. But, — whatever 
was the cause, — the British prepared to leave Phila- 
delphia and retire on New York, which was also in 
their hands at that time. They had to make a march 
of thirty leagues, and cross two rivers, — the Dela- 
ware at Philadelphia, and North River, — before arriv- 
ing at New York. We, on our side, prepared to 
harass their rear-guard. 

General Washington — partly out of friendship, 
and partly from policy — was anxious to afford the 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 53 

Marquis de la Fayette every opportunity to distin- 
guish himself, and ordered him to take a strong 
body of troops and cross the Schuylkill, at a spot 
on the left of the British position, and cut off their 
rear-guard, if the opportunity should occur. La 
Fayette had already brilliantly distinguished him- 
self at the Battle of Brandywine, where he had 
received a ball in the leg. 

We left about midnight, silently crossed the 
Schuylkill, and took up a position in a wood very 
close to Philadelphia, in order to be able to recon- 
noitre the enemy at daybreak, and attack if we 
had the chance. The main body of our army was 
ready to support us in less than two hours if we 
signalled for help. 

The British, who had spies amongst our men, 
were soon informed of our plans. The greater part 
of their army was still in Philadelphia; they made 
a sortie, carried the weak post we had established 
on the banks of the Schuylkill to secure our re- 
treat, and then marched in our rear, hoping to catch 
us between two fires. Our little army, ignorant of 
the danger of the position, was about to be caught 
in a trap. 

It happened otherwise, however. We had bivou- 
acked and were resting, and waiting for daybreak. 

Fortunately ,a surgeon had heard, — I do not know 
how, — of this night march of the garrison of Phi- 
ladelphia to cut off our retreat and take us in the 
rear. In the interests of his own safety, most prob- 



54 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

ably, he had searched along the banks of the 
river and had found a ford where there was only 
three or four feet of water. I was lying on the 
ground, near our general, when the Esculapius 
came up and whispered the information he had 
found out, and the discovery of the ford, of which 
we did not suspect the existence. La Fayette, 
awakened by the sound of our voices, asked what 
was the matter, and made the surgeon repeat what 
he had already told me. Our general was admir- 
ably cool, and showed that presence of mind so 
valuable in a commander in a time of danger. He 
quietly told the surgeon to return to his post, and 
as soon as he had left, ordered me to mount my 
horse, and see for myself if the information was 
true. I did not go very far before I ascertained 
that Esculapius was quite correct. I saw the head 
of a moving column, so I returned at full speed. 
The next moment the order to march was given, 
and our retreat was effected quietly and promptly, 
and our little army crossed the Schuylkill in good 
order, by the ford which the surgeon had discov- 
ered. We were drawn up in order on the right 
bank, and made the signals previously agreed upon. 
Our soldiers believed that the march and counter- 
march formed part of a strategic movement. The 
enemy did not dare to show himself, being afraid 
of being caught in a snare. 

Our expedition, which had served to puzzle the 
enemy, and our cleverly executed retreat, brought 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 55 

a good deal of praise to our general, which, to 
say truth, he deserved, but thanks were also due 
to the cautious and watchful surgeon who found 
the ford so opportunely ; — nothing was said about 
him, however. 

A few days later the British army had completely 
evacuated Philadelphia. We followed it almost 
within sight, and at Rareton Rivers, General Lee 
attacked the enemy's rear-guard, in the morning. 
This was composed of 7,000 men, the flower of 
the army, and comprised the regiment of Foot 
Guards. I was present at this affair, where the 
Marquis de la Fayette was under Lee's orders. 
We were thoroughly beaten, our soldiers fled in 
the greatest disorder, and we could not succeed 
in rallying them, or even in getting thirty men to 
keep together. As usually happens, the general 
who commanded was accused of treason. This was 
my first battle. 

The stragglers re-formed behind our main army, 
which they met with in their flight, whilst the 
British, proud of their victory, though it was but 
a partial one, had the imprudence to pursue us with 
the reinforcements which they had drawn from the 
advance guard. General Washington waited for 
them in a strong position, with all his army drawn 
up in battle order. 

The English had a deep ravine to cross before 
they could reach us: their brave infantry did not 
hesitate an instant, but charged us with the bayonet,. 



56 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

and was crushed by our artillery. The fine regiment 
of the guards lost half its men, and its colonel was 
fatally wounded. 

This engagement, called the Battle of Monmouth, 
from the name of a neighbouring village, began at 
ten o'clock in the morning: the heat was so excessive 
that we found soldiers dead without having received 
a wound. I did not see much of my first battle 
as we had not remained masters of the field; but 
that of Monmouth gave me some painful thoughts, 
even in the midst of the pride and pleasure of 
victory, and I cannot reproach myself with the 
callous heartlessness of the man who, on the field 
of Eylau, amidst the bodies of 24,000 of the victors 
and vanquished, said, "What a fine slaughter of 
men ! " We slept on the field of battle amongst 
the dead, whom we had no time to bury. The 
day had been so hot, in both senses, that everyone 
had need of rest. 

The British army retreated, about midnight, in 
silence, and we entered the village at six o'clock 
in the morning. The enemy had left behind some 
of his baggage and all his wounded ; they were to 
be found in every house, and in the church. Every 
possible care was taken of them. I cannot even 
now think without pity of the young officers of the 
guards who had lost their limbs. Their colonel, 
one of the handsomest men I have ever seen, and 
sixty years of age, died of his wounds after suffering 
for twenty-four hours. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 57 

There was no further fighting until the English 
reached New York. We arrived before the city at 
almost the same moment as they entered it, and 
took up our position. 

The siege was conducted under circumstances of 
great difficulty ; a British squadron was anchored in 
the port; the town was protected on one side by 
North River, and on the other by East River, — 
both much larger than the Seine, or even the Loire. 
We should have needed a hundred thousand men 
if we had wanted to attack the place, and we had but 
fifteen thousand. The American army remained 
therefore "in observation," and contented itself with 
preventing the enemy from foraging in the country 
round about. 

Whilst we were mutually engaged in watching 
each other, a plot was brewing which, if it had 
succeeded, — and it was within a hair's breadth of 
doing so, — would have been disastrous for our 
army, and perhaps even affected the fate of the 
newly-born Republic. I allude to General Arnold's 
conspiracy to betray the Fort of West Point into 
the hands of the English. 

West Point, some twenty leagues from New York 
on the right bank of North River, was the chief 
arsenal of the American government. All the heavy 
artillery was kept there, and also that captured at 
the surrender of Saratoga. Congress had taken the 
precaution to make every approach to the place 
bristle with fortifications. The heights were sur- 



58 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

mounted by formidable batteries which could bring 
a heavy cross fire to bear upon several parts of the 
river, and the passage of the river was also barred — 
like the port of Constantinople in the time of the 
Greek Emperors — by a chain, every link of which 
weighed more than four hundredweight. The forti- 
fications were erected under the direction of MM. 
Duportail and de Gouvion, officers sent from France. 

Amongst the causes which brought about the 
liberty and independence of the United vStates, per- 
haps these impregnable fortifications should count 
for something. 

The British could not hope to capture West Point 
by main force, for their ships could not approach 
without running the gauntlet — for fiilly two miles — 
of a heavy cross fire from the banks and the neigh- 
bouring heights. They resolved to try King Philip's 
" mule laden with gold." * 

The possession of the fort of West Point would 
allow the enemy to cut off all our communications 
with the Northern States, from whence we derived 
all our provisions, particularly cattle. The loss of 
this place would have been the heaviest possible 
misfortune for us, and the consequences would have 
been incalculable. General Arnold commanded 
the fort. 

Major Andre, a young officer of French extraction, 

* Philip of Macedon said, "there was no fortress so impregnable that 
a mule laden with gold could not enter." The figure is a favourite one 
with French writers, and has been used by Camille Desmoulins, Cha- 
teaubriand, and Heine. ED. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 59 

and an adjutant in the British army, often had 
occasion to visit the American camp to make 
arrangements concerning the exchange of prisoners. 
By chance or design, he had made the acquaintance 
of Arnold. This general, a man of rare courage, 
had often rendered us signal services, but he had 
not been rewarded as well as he wished. Major 
Andre guessed that he was discontented, and could 
be easily bought over, and a compact was made 
between them. Arnold was promised a large sum 
of money, and a position of equal rank in the 
British army with full pay. On his side he under- 
took to surrender the fort. The enemy was to 
make a night attack by the river, and it was 
agreed that Arnold was to allow himself to be 
surprised. 

There were still, no doubt, some minor points 
to be arranged, and it was necessary that the major 
should meet the general in order to discuss these. 
Andre came disguised, and was met by three of 
our militia men who were patrolling outside our 
lines, who stopped him and asked the usual questions. 
The major, who was dressed as a countryman, and 
badly mounted, replied quietly, and with an affec- 
tation of simplicity, that he was a farmer. The 
three militia men, who by the w^ay were but badly 
armed, for the musket of one of them had no 
hammer, were just deciding to let him pass, when 
he imprudently complained of the delay they had 
caused him, and was stupid enough to offer them 



6o A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

money, and t±iis aroused their suspicions. There- 
upon he proposed that they should conduct him to 
West Point, where he said he wished to go, but 
one of the militia men remarked that they would 
have five miles to walk, whereas by going only a 
mile or so they would meet General Washington, 
who ought then to be crossing North River on his 
return from a council of war held at Hartford. 
This was agreed, and the three militia men conducted 
their prisoner, without knowing who he was, to 
Kingsferry, where they awaited at the inn the 
arrival of the commander-in-chief. 

Arnold, however, being suspicious, had had the 
major followed by a farmer of the district. Being 
advised by his messenger that Andre was captured, 
Arnold at once jumped into a boat manned by 
English sailors in disguise, and which was waiting 
for him below the fortifications, and was rowed to 
the Vtilhire, a British corvette lying about two 
cannon shot off, and so the unfortunate major was 
the only victim of Arnold's treason. 

All this passed at very little distance from our 
camp. I had gone, out of curiosity, to see the 
generals arrive, and so was a witness, by accident, 
of this great drama. The inn-keeper told me that 
three mihtia men had arrested a very suspicious 
looking person, who had offered them money to 
let him go free, and showed me the place where 
this unknown personage was temporarily confined. 
I went to see him, and spoke to him, but as I did 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 6 1 

not know Major Andre by sight, I imagined the 
man to be nothing more than one of the enemy's 
spies. I was not the only person astonished a 
quarter of an hour later. 

General Washington arrived with his staff, and 
having been told of the arrest, ordered Colonel Ha- 
milton to go and examine the accused and bring 
back a report. I followed the colonel. The low 
room was very dark, and as night was falling, a 
light was brought. The colonel sprang back in 
astonishment and dismay, on recognizing at the first 
glance the unfortunate Major Andre. The prisoner 
wore no military insignia — a regimental jacket under 
his countryman's coat, might perhaps have saved 
him. Deeply pained by the recognition. Colonel Ha- 
milton ordered the militia men not to lose sight of 
their prisoner for a moment, and hurried back to 
the general. "It is Major Andre," he cried in a 
tone of despair. Washington's first words were, 
" Take fifty horse, and bring me Arnold dead or 
alive." Then he at once gave orders for all the 
army to be under arms. His next care was to have 
the prisoner searched; there was found on him a 
paper containing all the particulars of the plan 
agreed upon — the surprise of the fort at West Point, 
and a simultaneous attack on our army. God knows 
what would have become of the American cause if 
the plot had succeeded. 

The major was brought into the camp, under a 
strong escort, to be tried and sentenced; the least 



62 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

indulgence shown to him, would, in the circum- 
stances in which we were placed, have been followed 
by a mutiny in the army. 

Few culprits in modern history have inspired and 
deserved more general interest than this unhappy 
young man ; a distinguished, brave, and active 
officer, handsome, amiable, and only twenty-six 
years of age. We received quite a procession of 
envoys who came to treat for his release. The Eng- 
lish generals came in person, and offered almost 
anything to save his life. There was only one 
condition we could accept, and that was that Arnold 
should be delivered into our hands. The English 
were sorrowfully obliged to refuse this; they could 
not accede to the terms. 

Major Andre was tried and condemned to be 
hanged ; he did not even obtain the privilege of 
being shot. I can certify that when they came 
out after the court-martial the faces of all our ge- 
nerals showed marks of the most profound grief; 
the Marquis de la Fayette had tears in his eyes. 
The unfortunate young man met his death cour- 
ageously; he said loudly that he did not think it 
dishonourable to have acted as he did against " re- 
bels." 

The inevitable doom of Major Andre only 
served to accentuate the scorn and hatred that Arnold 
obtained and deserved. The traitor received his 
promised reward from the British government, but 
care was taken not to employ him as a general, 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 63 

the soldiers, both men and officers, being exas- 
perated against him. 

His wife and children, whom he had left behind, 
were in our power. He was base enough to sup- 
pose that they would be held responsible for his 
crime, and insolently wrote to General Washington 
threatening severe reprisals, and the destruction of 
Washington's beautiful estate in Virginia if any harm 
happened to his family. The sole reply Washing- 
ton made was to order Mrs. Arnold and her chil- 
dren to be conducted into the British lines, with 
every possible attention. It was, I believe, Colonel 
Hamilton who was charged with this duty, with 
instructions to spare them every possible inconve- 
nience. 

No event of importance happened during the next 
few weeks, but we learned that the British govern- 
ment was sending Commissioners to New York to 
arrange the terms of peace. One of these represen- 
tatives was Lord Carlisle, * a very young man. 
He was the cause of a scandal, the odium and 
ridicule of which affected him alone. He had in- 
serted in the English papers, which were read at 
New York, a paragraph to the effect that the Mar- 
quis de la Fayette had been very well received at 
the Court of St. James, but a very short time be- 
fore his departure for America, and therefore it 
was base ingratitude on his part to play the Don 
Quixote, and help the colonists in their rebellion 

* See Note D. 



64 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

against their sovereign. The Marquis de la Fayette 
felt personally insulted by this, and deemed himself 
justified in demanding satisfaction. A messenger 
was sent with a flag of truce to carry the chal- 
lenge, but though the noble lord could not have 
thought this opponent beneath him in rank, he con- 
tented himself with replying that he would leave 
the quarrel to be settled by Admiral Howe and Comte 
d'Estaing. * My lord was well known in the fash- 
ionable circles of London, and we therefore caused 
to be inserted in the papers, that he was nothing 
more than a young dandy, who wore rouge and 
patches, and was afraid to fight, and the laugh was 
on our side. 

A little later on, Comte d'Estaing appeared be- 
fore New York with a fleet of twelve vessels of the 
line and several frigates. 

The American army, encouraged by the presence of 
the French Fleet, advanced the lines close to the city. 

D'Estaing had hoped to be able to attack the 
British fleet in the port, with the advantage of su- 
perior force. Admiral Howe's squadron consisted 
only of seven or eight vessels of 50 guns. The 
French ships, being much larger, drew too much 
water, and were afraid of venturing too far in, for 
fear of running aground. The Languedoc, d'Estaing's 
flag vessel, mounted iio guns. They were there- 
fore obliged to renounce their original plan, and 
change their tactics. 

* See Note E. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 65 

The Marquis de la Fayette gave me a letter of 
introduction to Comte d'Estaing, which I presented, 
though I was a trifle nervous at the idea of an 
interview with such an important personage. He 
received me very well, and asked a good many 
questions which I was easily able to answer. I 
was closeted with him fully two hours. I partook 
of a most excellent dinner on board the Admiral's 
vessel, and was therefore much surprised to hear 
Comte d'Estaing complain that he was in need of 
many of the necessaries of life; — it certainly did 
not appear so. I announced the speedy arrival of 
fifty fat oxen; — which caused such universal pleas- 
ure that, before I had finished speaking, the good 
news was being conveyed by speaking trumpet or 
signals to all the vessels of the fleet. 

All the officers surrounded me, and cross-ques- 
tioned me closely as to our position, forces, etc. I 
was quite an important personage. Le Bailly de 
SufFren * — then only in command of a 50-gun ship — 
sent for me on board his vessel. I was obliged, in 
order to please him, to drink such a quantity of 
punch that when I left the ship I was afraid I 
should fall into the sea. 

I was very happy to meet my cousin, the Cheva- 
lier de F , now the Comte de F , Grand 

Cross of the Order of St. Louis, and Vice Admiral : 
he was then a midshipman on board La Provence. 
He had heard of my escape fi-om Pierre-en-Cize, 

* See Note F. 

5 



66 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

and we now met, eighteen hundred leagues from 
home, in the midst of a campaign; — the proper 
place for both of us, however. I was greatly obliged 
to him for many kindnesses, and more particularly 
for a small supply of clothes, with which naval 
officers are always well supplied, and which, as I 
greatly needed them, I took care not to refuse. 

At last I took leave of Comte d'Estaing, who 
entrusted me with dispatches for the commander-in- 
chief. I remember that he also gave me some kegs 
of lemons and pine-apples, which he had found 
on board a prize he had taken. To regain the camp, 
I had a voyage of twenty miles to make in a boat. 
I was so hungry during the night that I devoured 
several of the pine-apples ; and they nearly killed me. 

The plan of campaign of 1778 was changed; a 
combined attack was to be made, the French Fleet 
was to blockade Newport, Rhode Island, between 
New York and Boston, whilst a part of the army, 
under the command of General Sullivan, and compris- 
ing the division of the Marquis de la Fayette, was 
to besiege the place by land. 

We effected our landing on this beautiful island 
in the most orderly manner, and without any diffi- 
culties, under the protection of three frigates sent 
by Comte d'Estaing. 

Hardly had the troops disembarked before the 
militia, — to the number, I believe, of about ten thou- 
sand men, horse and foot, — arrived. I have never 
seen a more laughable spectacle; all the tailors and 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 67 

apothecaries in the country must have been called 
out, I should think;— one could recognize them by 
their round wigs. They were mounted on bad nags, 
and looked like a flock of ducks in cross-belts! 
The infantry was no better than the cavahy, and 
appeared to be cut after the same pattern. I guessed 
that these warriors were more anxious to eat up 
our supplies than to make a close acquaintance 
with the enemy, and I was not mistaken,— they 
soon disappeared. 

A few days after we had disembarked, we opened 
our trenches before the place, and the works were 
being pushed on with great activity, when the British 
fleet appeared before Newport. 

Comte d'Estaing at once gave orders to sail; there 
was little wind, but what there was was favourable. 
Our fleet defiled majestically in front of the enemy's 
earthworks; each vessel as she passed gave a broad- 
side of half her guns, amongst them many 24- and 
36-pounders, to which the forts replied with their 
10- and i2-pounders. Our fleet gave chase to the 
British, who made aU sail. Both fleets were soon 
lost to sight. We awaited the news of a victory, 
but our fleet was dispersed by a terrible storm, and 
the admiral's vessel, the Languedoc, dismasted by 
the gale, was very neariy captured by the enemy. 
The Cesar, a vessel of 74 guns, commanded by 
M. de Raimondis, separated from the rest of the 
squadron, had a very severe engagement with some 
of the enemy's vessels. The captain lost his right 



68 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

arm, but managed to save his ship, which we thought 
had been captured. It was in the midst of this 
tempest that Admiral Byron's fleet arrived and joined 
that of Admiral Howe. The enemy then had the 
advantage in strength. 

The siege still went on, but when M. d'Estaing 
re-appeared before Newport he told us he must 
withdraw the three frigates he had left to protect 
us, and we must raise the siege. D'Estaing took 
all the fleet to Boston for repairs. 

General Sullivan, angry at finding himself no 
longer supported by the French fleet, went so far 
as to insult our nation, and call the French traitors. 
Our two generals were almost on the point of fighting 
a duel. The Marquis de la Fayette complained 
bitterly, and with good reason, to Washington, of 
the treatment he had received. The retreat was 
made in good order, and we rejoined the main army. 

In this expedition the commanders, both by land 
and sea, were dissatisfied with each other and them- 
selves, but for me the siege had been rather pleasant, 
and on one occasion I received compliments which 
were as numerous as they were sincere. The oc- 
casion was as follows : 

The Chevalier de Preville, who commanded the 
three frigates intended to protect our communications, 
wrote to me to ask if he could obtain some supplies 
for his sailors. I handed his letter to the Marquis 
de la Fayette, and General Sullivan authorized me to 
take a detachment and forage between the two camps. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 69 

For twenty-four hours I was in chief command, 
and had to make all the military and gastronomic 
dispositions required. The space between the enemy's 
forts and our lines was covered with houses and 
gardens, the owners of which had deserted them, 
not caring about living between two fires. My 
work had to be carried out right under the enemy's 
nose, and I fully expected there would be some 
bullets to receive. I had requisitioned all the carts 
I could find, and filled them with fruit and,— so 
well does heaven protect good works,— not a shot 
was fired at us. 

The fi-igates, being informed by signal, of the 
success of my expedition, sent off a number of boats, 
and I protected the convoy down to the beach. 
You should have seen with what gusto the sailors 
devoured the apples, and with what alacrity they 
unloaded the carts of potatoes, carrots, and other 
vegetables. Their gratitude was all the greater as 
they had been some time without any fresh vege- 
tables. They hailed me as the good fairy of the 
fleet, and when I went on board I was enthusiasti- 
cally welcomed. 

The French government at last decided to recog- 
nize the United vStates as independent, and sent out 
M. Gerard as French Ambassador to Congress. It 
was quite time France took a step of this kind, for 
the help that she had sent through Caron de Beau- 
marchais had not given much satisfaction. The let- 
ters that he wrote to Congress, for instance, dis- 



7P A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

played a levity which amounted almost to insolence. 
I have kept a copy of one of his letters. 

" Gentlemen, 

" I beg to inform you that the ship A?n- 
phitrite, of 400 tons burden, will leave with the first 
fair wind for whatever port of the United States 
she may be able to reach. The cargo of the vessel, 
which is consigned to you, consists of 4,000 mus- 
kets, 80 barrels of gunpowder, 8,000 pairs of boots, 
3,000 woollen blankets, also some engineer and 
artillery officers ; item, a German Baron, formerly 
aide-de-camp to Prince Henry of Prussia, of whom 
you can make a general. 

" I am. Gentlemen, 

" Your obedient Servant, 

" C. de Beaumarchais. " * 

The members of Congress were very indignant 
about this letter, with the contents of which they 
made all us Frenchmen acquainted, but it was on 
a par with all that he did, and what might have 
been expected from such a man. 

The German Baron of whom he spoke so slight- 
ingly, was Baron Steuben, a great tactician, who 
was accompanied also by the Chevalier de Teman, 
a very distinguished officer. I have already named 
M. Duportail, M. Duplessis-Mauduit, and M. de la 
Rouarie. When the last-named presented himself 
before Congress, he was attended by his valet, a 
tall, handsome, and very brave man, named Lefevre. 

• See Note G. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 7 1 

M. de la Rouarie at once received his commission 
as colonel, and, so simple and inexperienced were 
the members of the Committee, that they offered a 
similar commission to the valet on the strength of 
his good looks. He thanked Congress for the prof- 
fered honour, but begged leave to refuse it. Con- 
gress then consisted of thirteen members, one from 
each State of the Union, but men very different 
from us in their habits and ways. They took their 
seats in the Congress Hall, as we should enter a 
reading room in Paris, and the wisdom of their 
magnanimous resolutions was even surpassed by the 
simplicity of their manners. 

After the siege of Newport was raised, we returned 
to the camp. General Washington and Congress 
decided to sent La Fayette to France to ask for 
further supplies of men and money, the American 
paper money having fallen into utter discredit. 

Great haste was made to finish building the 
frigate Alliance, which was to be a fast sailer, 
armed with thirty-six 12 -pounders. The command 
of the new vessel was given to a Frenchman, Captain 
Landais of St. Malo, but the ship was under the 
orders of M. de la Fayette, and the captain was to 
land him wherever he wished. To complete the 
crew we, unfortunately, took seventy English pri- 
soners. They were excellent sailors, and as they 
had all taken an oath of fidelity, it was thought 
they could be trusted. 

The winter was very severe, and the ship was 



72 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

not fitted out till the end of January. The port of 
Boston was then frozen, and we were obliged to cut 
a passage for the ship through the ice. The wind was 
extremely violent, though favourable. We put up 
our mainsail only and that alone took us along at 
the rate of ten knots an hour. There were many 
French officers on board, amongst others M. de Rai- 
mondis, the captain of the Cesar, who had lost 
his right arm in the last naval battle. 

Off the Bank of Newfoundland we were assailed 
by a terrible tempest. It lasted so long, and grew 
so much worse, that first inquietude, then alarm, 
and at last consternation, seized everybody on board. 

M. de la Fayette was invariably very ill at sea: 
he was down on the sick list. He often sent me 
to enquire after old Captain Raimondis, who suffered 
much pain from his amputation, — sufferings which 
were increased by the heavy rolling of the ship. 
The old sailor did not take a hopeful view of the 
situation ; he told me that he had never, in all his 
voyages, met with such a fearful tempest. I carried 
these remarks back to M. de la Fayette, but to 
comfort him as well as myself, I told him that I 
thought the state of health of Captain Raimondis must 
necessarily influence his mind, and make matters 
look worse than they really were. M. de la Fayette 
lay on his back and soliloquized on the emptiness 
of glory and fame. 

" Diable ! " he said, philosophically, " I have done 
well certainly. At my time of life — barely twenty 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 73 

years of age — with my name, rank, and fortune, 
and after having married Mile de Noailles, to leave 
everything and serve as a breakfast for codfish ! " 

For my own part I was better off; I had nothing 
to lose and no one to regret me. I went back to 
the old sailor. He occupied a cabin on the deck 
below that where M. de la Fayette was lodged, so 
that in going from one to the other I met with 
frequent falls, and had plenty of bruises to show as 
the result of my messages. It was impossible to 
keep one's feet, owing to the continual heavy seas 
which struck the ship. There was some talk of cutting 

the masts. One of my comrades M. de N , became 

so excited that I saw him charge his pistols, so as 
to shoot himself rather than be drowned. There 
did not seem to me a pin to choose between either 
fate, but his last hour had not yet come. This 
unlucky fellow had a mania for suicide. In 1792, 
after the loth August, he was an officer in the 
Constitutional Guards, and when the " patriots" came 
to drag him away to the Abbaye, he escaped from 
their hands by passing his sword through his body. 
At the end of three days, — which seemed very long, 
I must admit, — the tempest ceased, and during the 
rest of the voyage we had favourable weather. 

But heaven had yet another trial in store for us. 
Whilst we were at dinner one day, thinking no 
more of bad weather, but of France, from which 
we were now only some five hundred miles distant, 
one of the crew entered, and asked to speak to 



74 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

M. de la Fayette. He took the Marquis on one 
side, and told him a good deal in a very few words; 
namely, that the English sailors had laid a plot to 
kill us, take possession of the vessel, and turn her 
head towards England. This was to be effected at 
five o'clock in the evening, when the English sailors 
came off their watch. Our informant added, that 
many of the men, especially the ringleaders, would 
be found to have arms concealed in their hammocks. 
He had only joined in the plot, he said, in order 
to be able to save us. 

There was not a moment to be lost. We num- 
bered in all fourteen officers. We began by securing 
the man who had warned us, and Duplessis- 
Mauduit stood over him with a cocked pistol in his 
hand. Some of us then went to fetch the bravest 
and trustiest of our sailors, who came quickly and 
ready armed. Thirty of us went down between decks, 
and, as the hammock of each of the ringleaders 
was pointed out to us by the man who had betrayed 
the conspiracy, the cords were cut with one blow 
of a hatchet, and the man thrown out, seized, and 
bound, before he was half awake. The scoundrels 
were so taken by surprise that they made no 
resistance. At first they all denied the existence of 
a plot, but on being questioned separately, the fear 
of being hanged on the spot made them confess 
their crime, one of the motives for which, it 
appeared, was that they had noticed amongst the 
baggage of M. de la Fayette, some very heavy cases 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 75 

which they supposed contained treasure. The 
informer was, of course, rewarded as he deserved. 
None of us went to bed that night; we had to 
watch over sixty men, bound, and shut up between 
decks. In the cabin which served as our council- 
chamber, nothing was to be seen but loaded pistols 
and drawn swords. 

At daybreak we found that a Swedish merchant 
vessel was close to us. Captain Landais made 
the master come on board. The poor man's terror 
at seeing our cabin was ludicrous, the sight of all 
these deadly weapons made him imagine that his 
last hour had come. We tried to re-assure him by 
signs, for he did not know a word of French. 
For two whole days he was too frightened to 
either eat or drink, but he ended by finding our 
dinners very good, and our wine excellent. Cap- 
tain Landais maintained that the Swede was a legi- 
timate capture, but, when we arrived in France, 
we were forced to let him go. 

We were all anxious to see land, for we were 
tired out, and we were worried moreover, by the 
fear of meeting a hostile vessel stronger than our- 
selves, in which case it was tolerably certain that 
the men we were guarding below decks would 
have helped her. We had lost our top masts in 
the tempest, so flight would have been impossible. 
We were not yet in sight of land, — though it could 
have been at no great distance, — when an English 
cruiser of 16 guns, saw us and gave chase. As 



76 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

we showed no guns she no doubt thought ours 
was a vessel of the French East India Company* 
and a rich prize. So sure of this were her crew, 
that, as she neared us they mounted the rigging 
and cheered. When she was within half range she 
fired a shot to make us show our colours. We 
instantly ran up the American flag, and followed 
that by giving her a broad side. 

She quickly saw her mistake, and lowered her 
flag. We contented ourselves with sending a boat's 
crew on board, and throwing all her guns and pow- 
der into the sea. We took a lot of Madeira wine, 
which we found on board, and then let her go in 
this pitiable condition. In our peculiar situation that 
was the most we could do. 

When we came within sight of the French coast, 
I noticed that our captain was making towards the 
English Channel. He would no doubt have been 
glad to revisit St. Malo, his native town. I told 
M. de la Fayette, who caused him to put the ves- 
sel about and make for Brest, where we disem- 
barked. 




CHAPTER IV. 



/ visit my father, and am restored to his good graces — 
Arrival in Paris — Welcomed by all my relatives — Unexpected ap- 
pointment as deputy-captain — Ordered to Lorient — Paul Jones and 
Captain Landais — Counter orders — Re-embark on frigate "Alli- 
ance " to rejoin Washington' s army — In the absence of Paul Jones, 
the command of the frigate is given to Landais — He becomes 
insane during the voyage — Removed from his command by order 
of the passengers — The campaign of 1 78 1 — Siege of York Town — 
The Capitulation of Cornwallis — End of the American War on 
the Continent — / return to France on the '■'Ariel,'''' commanded 
by Chevalier de Capellis — We fight and capture the British 
vessel ** Dublin" — Wc enter Corunna in triumph — Fetes, Balls, 
etc. — A religious difficulty — We narrowly escape figuring iti an 
auto-da-fi — The "Ariel" weighs anchor — Arrival at Lorient. 

Our first care was to conduct to the town jail the 
rascally British sailors we had had so much trouble 
to guard. Instructions were given that they should 
be taken back to America, at the first opportunity, 
and there judged according to the laws of the 
country. 

The naval officers received us well, but we could 
not make a long stay at Brest. Everyone of us 

77 



78 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

wished to turn his steps towards home. The 
Marquis de la Fayette, who no longer philosophized 
now that he was safe on dry land, went to the 
Hotel de Noailles. His arrival was the news of the 
day, both at Paris and Versailles. The Queen of 
France did him the honour to bring Madame de 
la Fayette in her own carriage. She was surprised 
to meet her husband, for she had not been apprised 
of his return. 

As for me, I took the diligence and made 
my way first to Clermont, and then to the paternal 
mansion, the Chateau of Pontgibaud. Gratitude took 
precedence of natural affection, however, for as the 
places happened to be on my road, I first went to 
Nantes, and thanked M. de la Ville-Helis, and then 
to La Rochelle to thank M. Seigneur for past ser- 
vices. I did not want to surprise my father by ar* 
riving unexpectedly, and therefore took care to write 
and announce my return. Along with my own very 
respectful letter, I enclosed one which the Marquis 
de la Fayette had been kind enough to write to 
my father. 

In spite of these precautions, I felt a sort of fear 
as I entered his room, and appeared before him for 
the first time. We were both equally embarrassed. 
His clouded brow betokened a storm, not an ap- 
proaching storm, however, but one that is dying 
away in the distance. He addressed some reproaches 
to me, but they were merely a matter of form, in- 
tended to keep up the appearance of paternal dig- 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 79 

nity, and mainly concerned the heavy expenses which 
my journey from Paris to Pierre-en-Cize, and my 
imprisonment there had cost him. 

I very naturally observed that perhaps if he had 
given me all that money he would have made a 
better use of it, and so should I. This very sen- 
sible reflection was too much for his gravity; he 
quite unbent, and it was with difficulty that he 
could prevent himself from laughing. 

At the end of two hours he was no longer the 
same man, his curiosity had got the better of him, 
and he wanted me to give a full account of my 
Odyssey, my escape, voyage across the Atlantic, 
shipwreck, campaigns, and all. He made me read 
to him many times M. de la Fayette's letter, which 
corroborated all my statements. I say advisedly 
that he made me read it to him, for he had lost 
one of his eyes, many years before, at the Battle of 
Dettingen, and old age had enfeebled the sight of 
the other. I passed a fortnight at home, and by 
that time every cloud had passed away, and the 
sky was blue. I was so well restored to my father's 
affection that when I was leaving him to return 
to Paris to ask for a position in the army, he made 
me a present of 200 louis, increased my allowance 
to 1000 crowns, and gave me the address of a 
banker whom he had instructed to repay M. de la 
Fayette all the advances he had made on my account. 
He even offered to purchase a cavalry company for 
me if I could obtain one. He gave me besides a 



So A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

letter of thanks to my general. It was with a heart 
full of gratitude that I left him and started for 
Paris. 

The nine beatitudes awaited me there. Certainly 
there must be some communication between heaven 
and earth, for no sooner was I restored to my re- 
spected father's good graces than all sorts of good 
fortune fell upon me. 

At Paris I lodged in furnished apartments, not 
having the least idea where I should find any of 
my numerous relations, whom I believed to all be 
at their country houses at that season of the year. 
My uncle, the President de Salaberry took me to 
his house, and asked me to consider it as my home. 
He was a kind, good man, but that did not prevent 
him from being murdered during the Revolution — 
perhaps caused his death even. He heaped kind- 
nesses upon me with the same serenity of conscience 
with which, as my father's brother-in-law he had 
loaded me with abuse in my earlier days; but at 
that time he had been prejudiced against me by 
falsehoods and innuendoes which he was now an- 
noyed with himself for believing. 

When he had finished welcoming and embracing 
me, my kind but over-hasty uncle handed me a 
letter from my father, dated at Pontgibaud, igth 
April, 1779. I shall never forget the date — aldo 
dies notanda lapillo. I pressed to my heart this 
letter, which was addressed to my uncle, and in 
which I was happy to read these words, which 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 8 1 

shewed me that my father's present kindness was 
due to his sense of justice. 

"Monsieur le Comte," wrote the secretary, for 
the good old man was obliged to dictate his letters, 
" desires that the Chevalier shall want for nothing ; 
his intention being to compensate him amply for 
the misfortunes he has suifered by the injustice which 
was done him. He has been the victim of a sordid 
conspiracy which was discovered too late." 

I thought no more of the injury that had been 
done me, except as a pleasing reminiscence, and 
dated my happiness back to the day of my escape, 
which after all had been something of a feat. 

But I was far from knowing all the favours that 
fortune had in store for me. After I had been three 
weeks in Paris, the Marquis de la Fayette informed 
me that the King had given him a regiment of 
dragoons, and that His Majesty had granted me a 
commission as capitainc de remplaccmcut, which 
entitled me to half-pay. The Minister of War con- 
firmed the good news in an official letter, in which 
he said that by the wish of an important personage 
who did not wish his name to be known, — though 
I easily guessed it, — and who had taken me under 
his protection, the price of the brevet, that is to say 
7000 francs, was remitted, and I had nothing to 
pay for my commission. I had no further happiness 
to desire, for, since the end of the " Seven Years' 
War", France had been at peace, and the army 
swarmed with young officers with aristocratic names. 

6 



82 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

It was more difficult to be a cavalry captain in 1779 
than it was to be a colonel twenty or thirty years 
later. 

The French Government was then meditating a 
descent on England. A large army assembled in 
Brittany and Normandy, under the command of the 
Comte de Vaux. 

Many transport ships were also collected at Havre 
and St. Malo. M. de la Fayette sent for me and 
told me that I was to start for Lorient, in company 
with the Chevalier de Gimat, — who had been one 
of his aides-de-camp in the American War, — and 
there wait for orders. There were some hints of a 
secret expedition. My heart beat with joy. My 
comrade, who was much older than I, a colonel, 
and a very experienced officer, was in the secret, 
but it was in vain that I tried to draw it out of 
him. He confined himself to repeating that I was 
very lucky, and that I should find that the patronage 
of the Marquis de la Fayette would be of great 
service to me. Beyond this he would tell me nothing. 

Many armed vessels were awaiting us in the port 
of Lorient; the Bo7i Homme Richard, a vessel be- 
longing to the India Company mounting 54 guns 
of various calibres; the frigate Alliance, on which 
we had made the voyage back to France; the 
Pallas, 32 guns, commanded by Captain Cottineau 
of Nantes, an able officer of the merchant service, 
etc. These were under the orders of the celebrated 
American commodore, Paul Jones, who commanded 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 83 

the Bon Homme Richard. A number of brigs and 
corvettes completed the little squadron. 

We were to receive, on board these vessels and 
some transport ships, about 3000 men drafted from 
different regiments of the French army, and under 
the command of Marquis de la Fayette. I know 
now, what I did not know at that time, though I 
much wished to, that the object of this expedition 
was to make a descent upon Ireland, whilst the 
army of Comte de Vaux, protected by the combined 
fleets of France and Spain, under Comte d'Orvilliers, 
were to co-operate at the [same time in a similar 
descent on the English coast. For some reason, 
unknown to me, the execution of this plan was 
deferred, and finally abandoned by the French 
Government. 

During the six weeks that I spent in idleness at 
Lorient, I was eye-witness of a most curious, ridicu- 
lous, and incredible incident. A man in uniform 
dashed up) the staircase, rushed into the room where 
I was sitting, and begged me to protect him. He 
looked scared, and anxious. It was no other than 
our brave, — indeed more than brave, — Commodore, 
the famous Paul Jones. 

" Shut the door," he cried. " That scoundrel Cap- 
tain Landais met me in the town and wants to fight 
me. He is pursuing me from street to street, sword 
in hand. I do not know how to fence and I do 
not want to be killed by that rascal." 

I closed the door and double-locked it, but the 



84 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

Captain never came. Certainly Paul Jones acted 
very sensibly, for the match was not equal; Captain 
Landais with his drawn sword would have made 
short work of him, and Paul Jones had nothing but 
blows to gain by the encounter. This adventure 
does not in the least detract from his reputation. 
His recent fight with the Serap is, that he captured 
by boarding, placed his courage above all suspicion, 
and put him on an equality with all the boldest, 
luckiest, and bravest sailors of ancient or modem 
times. 

His quarrel with Captain Landais, of which this 
fight was a part, was not for the possession of a 
Helen, but for the command oixh^ ingdite Allia7ice, 
which had been ordered to sail at once for America, 
for, owing to some veering of the political compass, 
everything had been changed. 

Six thousand Frenchmen, under the command of 
Comte de Rochambeau, and including a great num- 
ber of young noblemen of the Court, anxious to 
have the privilege of serving as volunteers, were 
sent to the aid of the Americans, and embarked on 
a fleet of vessels, commanded by the Chevalier 
de Ternan, which was to sail from Brest. M. de 
la Fayette having sent in his resignation as Colonel 
of Dragoons, had taken leave of the King in the 
uniform of a Major General of the United States* 
army, and was already on board the French fi-igate 
Aigle, commanded by M. de la Touche Treville. 
La Fayette was to take the command of a division 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 85 

of Washington's army which was then encamped 
in Jersey Province, near New York. We received 
orders to join him, and embarked on the frigate 
Alliance, which was to sail without delay. Captain 
Landais had secured the command without striking 
a blow. 

The conqueror of the Serapis had hardly left 
my sheltering roof than he went to Paris to show 
himself. The Parisians went to their windows to 
see him pass, and thronged to the Opera the night 
he went there. Marshal de Biron, who did the 
honours of the capital to all the great personages, 
received Paul Jones with every mark of respect, 
and placed the regiment of Gardes Fran^aises under 
arms, in order to show it to the commander of the 
Bon Honwie Richard. But during this time, Cap- 
tain Landais remained at Lorient, and the American 
Minister we were to take back, being in haste 
to depart, took it upon himself not to wait for 
Paul Jones, and nominated Landais to the command. 

We had sailed about a week when Paul Jones 
returned from Paris, and found himself without a 
command. We had on board two commissioners 
from Congress, and we were bound for Boston. It 
was decreed, apparently, that I should meet with 
strange adventures during my transatlantic voyages. 
On this voyage the captain went out of his mind. 
We had previously noticed some peculiarities in 
his manner, and we were soon to acquire the cer- 
tainty that he was insane. 



86 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

His madness broke out one day at dinner, the 
cause being a turkey that he was carving. Mr. 
/ Lee, one of the commissioners, who sat beside him, 
took the liver, and was about to eat it when Landais 
rose in a fury, and threatened to kill him with the 
carving-knife. Everyone rose, and the two nephews 
of the American commissioner ran to call some of 
the crew to prevent their uncle being murdered. 
Landais shouted out that the best morsel belonged 
by right to the captain. He said and did all sorts 
of foolish things. I took up my dinner knife in 
order to defend myself, for he seemed as though 
he were coming at me to take vengeance on me 
because I was roaring with laughter. He was raving 
mad. A number of the sailors ran up, and the 
commissioners ordered them to seize and bind the 
captain, which was done. We drew up an official 
report of the incident; and the command of the 
vessel was given to the first officer. 

Under the direction of the new captain, we made 
a good passage, and disembarked at the end of ten 
or twelve days. Our course of action (in deposing 
the captain) was approved by the authorities at 
Boston. Such was the end of Captain Landais, the 
rival of Paul Jones — as far as my knowledge of him 
is concerned, at all events, for I never heard what 
became of him afterwards. 

I hastened to rejoin the American army, which 
three weeks after my arrival, marched for Virginia. 

This was in 1780. The little army of Comte de 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 87 

Rochambeau was blockaded in Rhode Island, where 
it had disembarked about the middle of the year. 
It was powerless to undertake any decisive action 
until the arrival of the French fleet. 

It was not tiU 1 7 8 1 , almost a year after the land- 
ing, that the fleet under Comte de Grasse"^ entered 
Chesapeake Bay. During this long interval, the 
American army, to which I belonged, performed no 
action of historical interest. I, for my part, shared 
with the others the dangers, and took part in the 
few indecisive skirmishes of the campaign, which we 
passed in marching and counter-marching, with 
occasional out-post affairs — in fact it was a war of 
observation. 

The approach of the French fleet favoured a plan 
of attack which might result in a general and decisive 
engagement, and Comte de Rochambeau at last left 
Rhode Island. Washington's army embarked, joined 
the French forces, and we hemmed in the principal 
British army which then occupied Virginia and was 
in position at York Town. Lord Cornwallis, tlie com- 
mander-in-chief, was attacked by us on 6th October. 
One of the two principal redouts was carried by the 
Marquis de la Fayette and the Americans a quarter 
of an hour before the French, headed by the regi- 
ment of " Grenadiers de Deux-Ponts " captured the 
other. The French and Americans emulated each other 
in courage and obstinacy, and the English also 
fought like devils. But British pride was humbled 

* See Note H. 



88 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

and Marquis Comwallis was obliged to capitulate. 

The young Due de Lauzun * was sent by the 
two generals to arrange the terms of surrender. He 
went alone, waving his white handkerchief in his 
hand, for the chivalric Due de Lauzun never acted 
like anyone else would in the same circumstances. 
The British army did not come out with drums 
beating, colours flying, and all the honours of war, 
but was forced to defile between a double row of 
French and Americans, and lay down their arms, 
to the shame and confusion of their brave and un- 
fortunate soldiers. Marquis Cornwallis wished to give 
up his sword to Comte de Rochambeau, but the 
French general made a sign with his hand to show 
that the honour of receiving it belonged to Wash- 
ington as the commander-in-chief. 

The English, now shut in New York vState, were 
no longer in a condition to continue the campaign, 
and there followed a kind of tacitly arranged truce 
extending over the eighteen months which preceded 
the declaration of peace. The combined armies of 
Washington and Comte de Rochambeau were com- 
pelled to remain inactive, for the surrender at York 
Town had settled the question of American Inde- 
pendence, though the French and English continued 
to fight at sea for a few months longer. Being 
unacquainted with that kind of diplomacy which 
leads to nothing more than an exchange of cannon 
shot between hostile fleets, and finding that not 

* See Note I. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 89 

another musket was to be fired in war on the 
American continent, M. de la Fayette left for France, 
and I did the same, for we had nothing in common 
with the little French army which remained in the 
United States until further orders. 

Comte de Rochambeau's officers had nothing 
better to do, I suppose, than travel about the country. 
When we think of the false ideas of government 
and philanthropy which these youths acquired in 
America, and propagated in France with so much 
enthusiasm and such deplorable success, — for this 
mania of imitation powerfully aided the Revolution, 
though it was not the sole cause of it, — we are 
bound to confess that it would have been better, 
both for themselves and us, if these young philosophers 
in red-heeled shoes had stayed at the Court. 

But a truce to these reflections which have nothing 
to do with my memoirs. In the autumn of 1781, 
my friend, the Chevalier de Capellis, was about to 
sail for France in the frigate Ariel, which he com- 
manded, and he took me on board. The Artel vj^s 
a prize captured by Comte d'Estaing's squadron ; 
she was a very fast sailer, but only carried eighteen 
g-pounders. 

We started with a favourable wind, but a few days 
later were assailed by a tempest, which are frequent 
in these seas. My friend swore, as all sailors do, 
that this should be his last voyage; he was rich 
and would certainly never expose himself again to 
any of the dangers of this cursed profession. I 



90 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

did not believe a word of it, and I was quite right. 
He related to me the history of his brother, who had 
perished at sea, — this stor>' always occurred to his 
recollection whenever the weather was bad. The 
storm, however, was not to be compared to that 
which I had encountered on my first return, when 
on the frigate Allia?ice. 

After a voyage of fifty-five days, we sighted the 
coasts of Spain. I must not omit to mention that 
when fifty leagues from land we had the pleasure 
of meeting the Ditblui^ armed with twelve 9-pounders. 
She rightly guessed that our vessel was of English 
build, and supposed that we were English, but she 
very soon found out her mistake, greatly to our 
satisfaction, though not to hers. Both ships having 
shown their flags, a cannonade ensued, which lasted 
three quarters of an hour, at the end of which time 
the Diihlin struck, for we were twice her size. She 
was loaded with merchandise. 

The vessel and cargo belonged to the Ariel. I 
could not help laughing at my friend Capellis. 
During the fight he was everywhere at once, 
animating the gunners, swearing, and crying that 
our fire was not fast enough or heavy enough. 
When the Dichlin struck, our gunners between decks, 
being unable to see on account of the smoke, or 
to hear on account of the noise, still went on firing. 
Capellis then felt that the enemy's vessel was his 
property, and that every extra bit of damage done 
her was a loss to him. He quite changed his tone 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 91 

and cried, "Cease firing! cease firing," but no one 
heard him. "Upon my word, that fellow has fired 
again ! " he shouted as he saw one of the gunners 
let fly another shot. His anger was really comic, 
and I believe he would have killed the man if he 
had not been restrained. 

We entered the port of Corunna in triumph, with 
our prize, and moored close to the Argonaut, a 
French vessel of 74 guns, commanded by M. de 
Caqueray. He was about to give a fete on board 
that day, and we received invitations. 

Even before we touched land, I thus enjoyed the 
honour and pleasure of seeing the ladies of Co- 
runna, who had been invited, so to speak, on pur- 
pose to meet us, but before the ball we were 
regaled with an unexpected sight which much as- 
tonished as. 

Before we had even cast our anchor, we were 
surrounded by a host of small boats containing 
women bringing fi-uit, and who climbed up the 
ship's sides as though they had been sailor boys. 
Many of the women were young and pretty, and 
did not sell fruit. In spite of orders they stormed 
our vessel, and, as the sailors favoured them, they 
were soon all over the ship, — except in the gun- 
room there were women everywhere ; we could not 
help laughing at this strange invasion. 

The fete given by M. de Caqueray was a very 
grand one, and the ladies appeared to me charming, 
for it was so long since I had seen any. 



92 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

I was not quite so enthusiastic about the city of 
Corunna which these beautiful ladies and damsels 
inhabited. I had just left the United States, a new 
country where the towns were all new and where 
the greatest cleanliness prevailed even in the most 
humble habitation ; where nothing to excite disgust 
was ever seen, and there were no rags, and no 
beggars. At Corunna, I found old houses, mendi- 
city at every comer, an atmosphere infected with 
smoke, and the smell of fried oil, and in fact all 
the innate dirtiness of people whose natural element 
is filth. Add to this the clatter of carts with 
wooden wheels, rumbling over the most uneven 
pavement in the world. Jean Jacques would have 
quitted Corunna an hour after he entered it, for he 
pretends that he was obliged to leave his lodgings 
in Paris simply because he heard a water carrier 
cry A Veau ! in an unmusical voice. 

As I had come from America, you may imagine 
that I was asked thousands of questions. The Duke 
of Medina-Celi, the colonel of a regiment then 
quartered in Corunna, asked as many questions 
as the Bailli in the Ingenu,^ but otherwise he was 
a very agreeable young man. Spaniards and French 
were then good friends, for the two nations had 
allied their forces against England, and both armies 
wore a cockade in which the French white was 
mingled with the Spanish red and black. 

We were detained by contrary winds, and we 

* One of Voltaire's short stories. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 95 

profited by this accident to visit the port and arsenal 
of Ferrol. 

We were told that it was " a miniature Brest. " 
I noted that, like our great marine arsenal, it was 
entered by a narrow strait, but I do not otherwise 
intend to compare the two. All that I will say is, 
that I have seen Brest and I have seen Ferrol. 

On our return to Corunna we were invited to a 
ball given specially in our honour. Madame Tenoria, 
the wife of the naval commissioner, held a faro bank 
at her house every night. I remember that I once 
had a mind to play there, and I lost a hundred 
louis,— one of the clearest of all my recollections of 
my wanderings. 

I saw my pieces of gold disappear without ever 
uttering an impatient word, — but the devil lost 
nothing by my silence. Inwardly I was harrowed 
with grief and rage. My face looked calm, but 
nevertheless I was just on the point of kicking over 
the cursed gaming-table, when I was restrained by 
a remark of one of the bystanders. I distinctly 
heard someone near me say, " What a fine gambler 
that young officer is; he loses and never says a 
word." I felt that I was something of a hero, and 
that as a soldier I had to sustain the honour of the 
cloth. I put my hand back on the table, but if any- 
one could have looked under my coat they would 
have seen that I had buried the nails of the other 
hand in my flesh. Nevertheless I left behind me 
at Corunna, not only all my money, but the reputation 



94 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

of being a first-rate gambler. The experience 
served me in good stead, however, for since then I 
have never played again. 

An incident of another nature happened to us 
whilst we were at Corunna, — one that might have 
had serious consequences for us, though we were 
not to blame. 

We passed our evenings in one or other of the 
best houses of the city, returning on board about 
ten o'clock, at which time the boat was waiting for 
us. One night, when the weather was very bad, 
we happened to meet a religious procession in a 
narrow street; the viatimm was being carried to 
some great personage, I should imagine by the 
number of people who followed the dais; there were 
a great many women in the crowd. We three 
officers stood on one side respectfully, removed our 
hats, and as it was pouring with rain, we received 
all the water from the gutters on our unprotected 
heads, and were drenched to the skin. When the 
procession had passed, and was about thirty yards 
away, we thought we could with decency put on our 
hats, but the people tore them off again, crying and 
shouting something we could not understand, as we 
did not know Spanish. With that we all three drew 
our swords, whereupon these exceedingly pious Chris- 
tians all tumbled over one another to get out of the 
way, and left us a clear road. We hastened our 
steps and took the first cross street we could find. 
The people, not wishing to lose anything of the 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 95 

ceremony, did not pursue us. Not knowing the 
town well, we probably did not take the shortest 
road to the boat, but we found it at last, and were 
very glad to take our seats in it. 

I mentally recounted to myself all that had 
happened to me since Pierre-en-Cize, and I could 
not prevent saying to myself, all that is needed is 
to see myself flogged to slow music through this 
cursed town, and then figure in an aufo-da-/^ vj\t\\ 
a benito on my head. But that would have been 
too much spite on the part of fortune, to heap so 
many misfortunes upon a simple individual like me. 
Providence watched over us. Our adventure had, 
however, created some excitement in the town, and 
the commandant requested us to give him the true 
account of the matter. When he had heard it, he 
recommended us not to set foot on shore for some 
days, and he promised to come and dine on board 
with us the following day. He was an Irishman, 
very kind and very witty, and we agreed together 
perfectly, but we were disenchanted with Corunna, 
and a few days later, the wind being favourable, we 
weighed anchor, and, after a good passage of a few 
days, landed at Lorient. 




CHAPTER V. 

Proposed expedition to Senegal — A visit to Pi^rre-en-Cize — The 
reception I met with there — The rcputatiofi I had left behind 
me — Institution of the Order of Cincinnatus, which I arn one 
of the first to receive — The pleasures of peace ; mathematics and 
the violin — Expedition to Cochin-China — Afi Oriental Young 
Pretender — Eastern presents — The year lySg — Physical and 
political Signs of an approaching Revolution — Infatuation of 
the people at Versailles and Paris — Delille — Nostradajnus 
— Cazotte — La Fayette and fny French comrades of the Order 
of Cincinnatus side with the Revolutionary party — I emigrate 
with my brother — The campaign iti Champagne — The retreat — 
We arrive in Switzerland and establish ozir selves at Lausanne — 
An accojint of the jnembers of our little family — How an 
important ho2ise of business was founded — Unexpected news 
— / am called to the United States to receive ten thousand 
dollars, back pay and interest — / embark at Hamburg and 
go to receive rny ?noney. 

I, AND my friend the Chevalier de Capellis at once 
started for Paris. 

We went together to Versailles to see Marshal 
de Castries, who was then Minister of the Navy ; 
he cross-questioned me closely upon the glorious 

battle of York Town, an event which has become 

96 



A FRENCH VOLUNTEER. 97 

famous. I noticed that, as we were retiring, the 
Minister took my friend CapeUis on one side, and I 
heard the marshal tell him, for I listened, to come 
on a certain day at a certain hour, when he would 
hear some news that would please him. I was not 
interested, for the affair seemed no business of mine, 
but two days later, Capellis came and told me that 
the marshal intended to send a small expedition to 
seize the English factories at Senegal, which, he 
heard, were but poorly defended, and could easily 
be taken by 150 men: Capellis was appointed to 
the chief command of the expedition, which was to 
consist of a frigate and a corvette. He had asked 
and obtained for mc the command of the small body 
of soldiers which was to take part in this bold 
adventure. 

The expectation of figuring as a conqueror greatly 
dehghted me. It was not much of an affair, I 
confess, but everything must have a beginning. 
The expedition occupied all my thoughts. I already 
pictured to myself the Marabouts, the local clergy, 
paying their homage to the conquerors; I shook 
hands with the King of Dahomey, and replaced 

Robert D in the affections of the little Queen 

of Cayor — to say nothing of the elephants' teeth and 
gold which I was sure to find in the English 
factories when I had taken them. 

Whilst I was building these fine castles in the 
air I wrote off to my father, not doubting for an 
instant but that he would share the pleasure I felt 

7 



98 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

at the prospect. I told him I was the happiest man 
aUve, for that I was about to proceed shortly on 
an expedition in which I should have an opportunity 
of distinguishing myself and gaining both " glory 
and profit." My father, — an old man with very 
positive ideas on certain subjects, and high-minded 
and chivalric, — was not impressed by the two words 
" glory" and " profit." He looked at the matter in 
a different light, and, — to my great surprise, I 
confess, — wrote me, by return of post, a short, sharp 
note, in which he said that as soon as he had 
finished reading my letter he had put it in the fire, 
in order to destroy all record of sentiments which 
did me but little honour. The words " glory " and 
" profit", he added, should never come together, 
either in the mouth or under the pen of a French 
officer, and he begged that I w^ould never write 
him anything of the same kind again. This paternal 
rebuke, which was not undeserved, was all that I 
ever got out of the proposed expedition, which came 
to nothing. 

As I had leave of absence, and was not obliged 
to rejoin my regiment then in garrison at Auch, I 
went to Auvergne and visited my father, who, now 
that he had given me a bit of his mind, was no 
longer angry with me. Pending myself, after an 
interval of three years, within a hundred miles of 
my former political residence, the castle of Pierre- 
en-Cize, of which I was no longer in fear, I one 
day proposed to our worthy neighbour M. dAl , 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 99 

whose friendship had been so useful to me, that 
we should take a ride over to Lyon. I wanted 
him to see with his own eyes the scene of the 
events I had narrated to him, that he might not 
believe my account on hearsay only. 

We arrived at Lyon. It is customary on visiting 
the castle to give at the gate your name and that 
of the hotel at which you are staying. The cor- 
poral who came out to question us, looked at me, 
and recognized me, although I was enveloped in 
the long cloak of the dragoon uniform. 

"Oh, sir," he said laughingly, "there is no need 
to ask your name ; we are not likely to forget it. " 

The corporal had belonged to the guard on the 
day when I had my fight with it. He eagerly 
asked us where we were lodging, and an hour 
after our arrival we received from M. de Belle- 
cize, the governor of the castle, a pressing invitation 
to dine with him on the following day. 

We accepted, and were warmly welcomed. It 
was not surprising that in the short interval of 
three years few changes should have taken place 
in a stationary garrison like that of Pierre-en-Cize, 
and that there should still be many amongst them who, 
like the worthy corporal, had seen me and known me. 
During dessert, a deputation came from the soldiers to 
welcome me, and to recite some verses, whichthey 
had made up amongst themselves, in my honour. 
The intention was good, and I took it as such and 
duly rewarded it, and the honest fellows were as 



lOO A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

pleased with my gold as I was with their verses. 
After dinner, M. de Bellecize ordered the gaoler 
to show us the room I had occupied, but strictly 
advised him not to allow a prisoner named De Livry 
to see me. My name was never out of the head 
of this unfortunate young man. He was always 
talking about my exploit, and had made several 
attempts to escape, and complained bitterly to 
heaven that one man should always fail where 
another had succeeded. The governor thought it 
likely that the prisoner might go out of his mind 
if he saw the person about whom he talked so 
much, so we did not meet. 

On 2oth January, 1783, England, by a solemn 
treaty of peace, recognized, in clear and precise 
terms, the Independence of the United States. 

One of the first acts of the young Republic was 
to found the Order of Cincinnatus, and make it 
hereditary. It had a sky blue watered ribbon with 
a white border, below which was an eagle with 
outstretched wings in enamelled gold. We, in 
France, did not know what was going on beyond 
the seas, when suddenly the Marquis de la Fayette 
was surprised to receive a packet of a dozen eagles 
to be distributed between him and his companions 
in arms. I was one of the twelve honoured by this 
mark of distinction. I have heard that Comte de 
Rochambeau received thirty-six eagles of Cincinnatus 
for himself and the principal officers of his forces. 

Claims and pretended claims to this honour came 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. lOI 

from all quarters, indeed there has been quite a 
mania, in France, for orders, ever since the days of 
Louis XIV. The French navy also asked, and with 
just cause, for some of these orders, and I would 
not swear that, within a year, Beaumarchais himself 
had not received it; — the slightest connection with 
America was considered sufficient basis for a claim 
to this honour. I felt great pleasure in being one 
of the first to receive the Order of Cincinnatus. 

I sincerely believed that that would be all the 
reward we should receive for our campaign in the 
New World. I can truly declare that I had never 
even jotted down the amount of my pay as an officer 
in the service of Congress. I was wrong in my 
beUef, however, and found out afterwards that I had 
lost nothing by fighting for honest people. 

After several years of an active life a state of 
peace seemed very irksome to me. I went from 
Paris to my regiment, and from my regiment to 
Paris. I thought of resuming the study of mathematics, 
and found a professor. I shall always remember 
with pleasure the quiet and modest M. Pinel * who 
taught me mathematics. He had hung up his doc- 
tor's hat, and never carried a gold-headed cane 
when he came to give me my lessons. I was sur- 
prised to learn some years afterw^ards that the cele- 
brated Dr. Pinel and my former professor of mathe- 
matics were one and the same person. 

Not wishing to make my living by it, I would not 

* See Note J. 



102 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

Study mathematics all my life, and the days were 
long, especially to one who had vowed, as I have 
already said, not to gamble. I therefore resolved to 
learn the violin, and in my case, tastes soon become 
passions, and the dominant one for the time being 
drives out all the others. After glory had come 
mathematics, and after mathematics came the violin. 
I devoted myself entirely to the instrument, with an 
ardour which now I find it difficult to understand, 
and took lessons from all the great professors of the 
day. I was the pupil of Capron, Jarnowiek, Traversa, 
and Viotti. I could perform the most difficult con- 
certos, but I question if I could have played a jig 
or a country dance with half the dash and spirit 
shown by many a village carpenter. 

Thus did I pass my winters at Paris at the house 
of my respected uncle. President de Salaberry, 
dividing my time between arts and social intercourse. 
The six remaining months I spent in garrison, going 
from the stables to parade, and from parade to the 
exercise ground. The silken thread of my Hfe was 
smooth and even, but I felt a longing for adven- 
tures, and at one time I really believed there was a 
chance of my getting some fighting in India. 

One of the missionary priests brought to Paris a 
youth whom he called the pretender to the throne 
of Cochin-China. This young Tonkinese prince — 
whose legitimate claim to the throne I never for 
an instant doubted — had in his suite several man- 
darins, who were the smallest men I ever saw, and 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 103 

the young prince himself did not give promise of 
being any taller. In fact it was difficult to look at 
them without laughing. The report given by the 
reverend father, and our commercial interests, half 
induced the Government to help the little prince to 
regain his throne, all the force that he required to 
effect this being a couple of frigates, and some 
500 soldiers. I was told that Comte de Behague, 
who commanded at Belle-Isle would be the head of 
tlie expedition. I knew him very well, and I hastened 
to beg him to solicit the Minister to give me a 
command under the Comte in this expedition. I 
was in error, there had never been any question of 
employing Comte de Behague, and I do not know 
to whom the command was eventually given. 

It was a pleasant dream the more; but at all 
events I had the advantage of seeing the royal 
present which the little prince had bestowed,— I do 
not know why,— on the Comtesse la Marck. She 
was then living in the Tuileries, in the rooms now 
occupied by the Dauphiness. I saw on the chim- 
ney-piece a pair of stag's horns,— a singular present 
about which a good many sarcastic remarks were 
made. For my own part, I was more struck by 
the beauty of the Cochin-Chinese stags than I was 
by the importance of a kingdom, the sovereign of 
which could be driven from his throne by five hun- 
dred men and a couple of frigates, but, between 
ourselves, I never said this until after I knew that 
I should not belong to the expedition. 



104 A. FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

This dislike to repose, and uneasy longing for 
war, or rather this undefined need of activity and 
love of change is characteristic of the French, and 
I was not the only person to suifer from it. It was 
a fever which affected, in one way or other, all 
ranks of society, at this epoch. 

Louvois, * it is said, declared war against the 
Palatinate because he had contradicted his master 
on a question concerning one of the windows at 
Trianon, when the King was right, and he was 
wrong. Ever since the American war, the heads of 
all the youths of the court and the city had been 
in a state of ferment. Imitation was all the rage, 
and the English and Americans, — the two most 
thoughtful, practical, and solid nations in the world, 
— were held up as models to be imitated by the 
most witty and frivolous people. To this strange 
infatuation was joined also that discontented grum- 
bling spirit peculiar to the French. The govern- 
ment should have provided the people with some 
object, — no matter what it was, — to distract their 
attention. Were not duels fought about the relative 
merits of Gluck and Piccini, for want of other motives ? 
A pretext should have been found to take up 
the quarrel of the vStadtholder and Holland, and 
defend the United Provinces against Prussia. A 
war with Prussia would have suited the belligerent 
instincts of our impulsive and over numerous youths, 
and would have served to retard the advent of that 

* See Note K. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 105 

terrible drama called the French Revolution by at 
least ten years. More than this even should have 
been done, and when England was in a dangerous 
situation owing to her struggle with her revolted 
colonies, France should have acted as mediator, and 
not as an auxiliary to the other side. We should 
have recovered Canada, vSpain, and Gibraltar; nor 
would there have been much difficulty (in mediating), 
for in the Congress of the thirteen vStates, six mem- 
bers, including Washington himself, voted against a 
rupture with the mother country; — but it was decreed 
on high that it was not to be so. 

I am sure that about this time, — either in 1785, 
or 1786 — I forget which year and month, — I read 
in the Alcrcure the following prophecy. 

Inscription found at Liska, in Hungary, 

ON THE TOMB OF ReGIO MONTANUS. 

Post mille cxpletos a partu Virginis a7inos 
Et scptigenos rursiis ahindc datos, 
Octogesijmis octavus ?nirabilts annus 
Ingruet et secum tristia fata feret. 
Si 7ion hoc afino totus malus occidet or bis. 
Si non in nihilum terra fretumqtie rueyit, 
Cuncta tamen miuidi rurstcm ibant atque deorsum 
Tmperia et Itcctus ii^idiqtce grandis erit. * 

* A thousand years after the birth of our Lord, and seven hundred 
years more, the eighty -eighth, a memorable year, will come, and bring 
sad events. If this year the wicked world is not destroyed, — if the sea 
and the land are not brought to nothing, — all thrones will be again 
overturned, and universal mourning shall prevail. 



Io6 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

I am aware that Regio Montanus, or Muller died 
at Rome in 1476, and was buried in the Pantheon. 
He was not, I believe, a prophet any more than 
Nostradamus was, but, whether there is an error 
in the place of his burial, or whether the verses 
are falsely ascribed to him, is beside the question. 
I saw them and read them in the Mcrncre, in 
1785, 86, or 87, and in 1788 the political atmosphere 
of France and all Europe was disturbed by violent 
storms, and the verses were reprinted in all the 
French and foreign papers. I make no remarks 
thereon, but content myself with noting the coinci- 
dence. To the year 1788 succeeded 1789, when 
the Revolution burst forth, — a calamity of which no 
one calculated the extent, and for the results of 
which we have had to pay dearly. 

Amongst the enthusiasts were those infatuated 
with the novel ideas they had imbibed in the 
classic ground of America, and joined to them were 
the young lords of the Court who were associated 
with some literary men, and thought themselves 
very clever because they frequented the society of 
the witty and impertinent Champfort. He laughed 
at them, and with good reason. He it was who 
once, on a yacht on the Moerdick, impudently said 
to the Comte de Narbonne and the Comte de 
Choiseul, " My dear friends, do you know of anything 
in the world more idiotic than a French gentleman ! " 

To these were joined the disciples of that school, 
the head-quarters of which were the Hotel de la 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 07 

Rochefoucauld, in the Rue de Seine, presided over 

by Madame d'E , the members of which comprised 

philosophers, philanthropists, economists, — all the 

grumblers ; the Vicomte de B , who was nothing 

at all, except a good dancer ; and Le C , a little 

monkey of an Abbe, crooked as Scarron, but 
remarkable for turbulent oratory. The Queen 
sarcastically called him General Jocko. There was 
also Heraut-de-Sechelles, * a social favourite, who 
could have attained the highest posts in the 
magistracy without the trouble of saying or doing 
anything, for he enjoyed the interest and good- 
will of everybody, and had some wit, and, it was 
said, talent. He was related to Madame de Polignac, 
and openly protected by the Queen of France. So 
much for the city. 

As to the court, it may well be asked what 
spirit of insanity had seized all the admirers and 
votaries of constitutional system and revolutionary 
ideas, and in fact all these reformers a talons rouges f 
to make them so desirous of a new order of 
things, and so hungry for any change from the ex- 
isting order of affciirs. Some of them were led 
astray by a false ambition, and each thought him- 
self, no doubt, called upon to play the part of a 
second Washington. Such, I imagine, was the case 

of the two T 's, the nephews of the Marechal 

de R , both of them in favour with the Queen, 

* See Note L. 

•(• The courtiers. It was a mark of nobility to wear shoes with red 
heels. BD. 



Io8 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

who had bestowed upon each a regiment. These 
Court revolutionists, anxious to ingratiate them- 
selves with the mob, displayed the blackest ingrati- 
tude, and their mountebank endeavours to obtain popu- 
larity and pose as philanthropists, made them resemble 
the dog who dropped the meat for the shadow. 

Some of them were credulous enough to ima- 
gine that if a Revolution did come, it could be 
stopped at exactly the right point to suit their per- 
sonal interests. 

The Due d'Orleans and his friends thought that 
the Revolution would turn out to their advantage 
by causing a change in the dynasty, but they 
could not foresee that, if the King came to the 
scaffold, they also would go there, either before 
him, with him, or after him. 

The Parliaments thought themselves sure of the 
good opinion of the people because they had re- 
fused to support the stamp act and the land tax, 
and because they had demanded "States General." 

The moneyed classes of Paris were in favour of 
the Revolution ever since M. Vernier had told 
them that the Nation would take the public debt 
under its special care ; — they were painfully unde- 
ceived when the same man said two years later 
that he would make two-thirds of them bankrupt. 

The only persons who were not under a delusion 
were those who having nothing to lose had every- 
thing to gain, and the majority of them were but 
raised to be dashed down again. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 09 

Whatever anyone was bold enough to do he 
could do with impunity, as far as the monarchy was 
concerned. Louis XVI, the best natured and most 
honest man in his kingdom, said to his reader, M. 
de Septchenes, who had been reading to him the 
history of the English Revolution in 1641, " If I 
had been in the place of Charles I, I would never 
have drawn my sword against my people." 

That excellent prince should never have said that 
or even thought it. On 23rd June 1789, the King, 
addressing the States General, said, " Gentlemen, I 
command you to adjourn at once." The King left, 
and President Bailly remained. Mirabeau replied 
to M. de Breze, who had repeated the king's or- 
der, " Go and tell your Master that we are here by 
the will of the people, and will not depart till we 
are driven out by bayonets." From that moment 
the Revolution was proclaimed. 

All the events, crimes, misfortunes, and excesses 
which rapidly followed were but the inevitable con- 
sequences of these first acts, and therefore I will 
not dwell here upon the 14th July, and all the aw- 
ful scenes of that terrible day. 

Animus vicmmisse horrct luctuquc refugit. 

The establishment of the National Guard at Paris 
to keep the insurrection within bounds, was deemed 
a sacred duty, but by that very act the Royal 
power was suspended, and, from that day, France 



no A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

had twelve hundred legislators, of whom the Empress 
Catharine II said, that " No one would obey them , 
except the King." It was not the King, it was 
not the so-called National Assembly, it was the 
people, who, on i6th July, appointed M. Bailly 
Mayor of Paris, and M. de la P'ayette, Commander 
of the National Guard. 

The same day, — i6th July, — the Comte d'Artois, 
the House of Conde, and Prince de Conti, left 
France, and the emigration commenced. 

M. de la Fayette was then Commander of the 
Paris Militia, and the General Fairfax of the French 
Revolution. Many proposals were made to me to join 
my old comrades in arms, and serve under the orders of 
this general. My attachment to him was not so 
great that I felt forced to follow him in any path 
which it seemed right to him to take, and I refused. 
It has been wisely said that, in a time of revolution, 
to do your duty is not so difficult as to know 
your duty. I knew mine, and I did it; I should 
have acted the same could I have foreseen future 
events. The worst of all positions is to be between 
the hammer and the anvil, which in France, at that 
time, meant to be between the Revolution and the 
^Monarchy. A choice had to be made. It appeared 
to me that I could best assist the cause of the 
Monarchy by emigrating; to many other people, — 
and I do not blame them, — it appeared that it could 
best be helped by their staying in France ; some of 
them, indeed, could not do otherwise. I will not 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. i i i 

discuss the matter; thousands of pages might be 
written and the question still remain unsolved, or 
further than ever from a solution. I wish to narrate 
here only personal events and circumstances-- 
memories teeming with observations that may be 
useful to others beside myself. 

My brother and I emigrated, being both persuaded, 
— as were all the emigres who formed the Prince's 
army — that we might inscribe on our banners, " Vent, 
vidi, vici,'^ and we entered Champagne in 1792 with 
the King of Prussia. 

Verdun was captured 3rd September, and the 
next day the army could and should have arrived 
at Chalons, which is only thirty leagues from Paris, 
where King Louis XVI and his family were then 
prisoners in the Temple. The French army, inferior 
to us in numbers, covered an immensely long line, 
and would not have been able to stop the eighty 
thousand men commanded by the Duke of Bruns- 
wick, from reaching Paris. But not a day should 
have been lost, and we lost whole weeks. 

The war of 1792 was but a war of Cabinet 
intrigues, fallacious negotiations, false calculations, 
in which each of the powers was misled, and the 
cause of the French Princes, the Bourbon Monarchy, 
and the unfortunate Louis XVI and his family 
counted for nothing. The Revolutionists alone were 
the only persons not deceived and misled, and they 
won the campaign without having to fight. 

In this famous campaign of 1792, commanded 



112 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

by the first General in Europe, the celebrated Crown 
Prince, having under his orders 60,000 Prussians 
with the King of Prussia, and 20,000 Frenchmen 
with the King's brothers, both armies might have 
said that they never saw the enemy. A few skir- 
mishes with outposts or with the advance guard 
were dignified by the Revolutionists into battles 
and victories. They were right, for these skirmishes 
were the only visible result of the war, and in fact all 
this invincible armament accomplished was the cap- 
ture of Verdun. The magistrates presented Freder- 
ick with the keys of the town, and some confectioners* 
girls brought some anisette, — an attention for which 
they paid dearly, for the ferocious Jacobins after- 
wards sent these unoffending persons to the scaffold. 
The Duke of Brunswick capitulated, retired, and 
repassed the frontier, to the indignation of the 
French princes and the 20,000 armed men who 
had followed them; to the disgust of all true sol- 
diers, — men like General Clairfait; — and to the 
astonishment of all France and the Jacobins them- 
selves, for the mob will never learn this eternal truth, 
that great events spring from the most trivial causes, 
and even from the lowest and most absurd motives. 
Proh I pudor ! A retreat was ordered in accordance 
with the capitulations, but the French hussars plun- 
dered the baggage of our rear guard. A dull grey 
sky, continual rain, mud in which horses sank to 
their bellies, and wagon wheels to the hub, were 
the sinister omens which accompanied our retrograde 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. I 1 3 

march. Add to these also the complaints and con- 
sternation of the inhabitants, who had indiscreetly 
welcomed us on our triumphant entrance, and who 
now feared to remain exposed to the vengeance of 
the bloodthirsty ruffians whose ftiry would know no 
bounds. 

Entire families of Alsatians followed the army in 
its retreat. Many indeed still remained under the 
yoke, and after the fatal day which ended the cam- 
paign of 1792 by a shameful and inexplicable retreat, 
it is difficult to say which were the more unfortu- 
nate, those French people who left their country or 
those who remained there. In France nearly every 
family was devastated by death, which fell upon 
people of every rank and every age. 

From the loth August 1792, until 9th Thermidor 
1794, no citizen, though he belonged to the tem- 
porarily dominant faction, was sure that he would 
sleep another night in his bed, and that he would 
not be led to the prison and the scaffold. 

Outside France, after the retreat from Champagne, 
all the French emigres and their families may be 
said, generally speaking, to have made shipwreck 
of their hopes and prospects. Happy were they 
who found a place of refuge, and a stone on which 
they could lay their head. Europe did not suffice 
to accommodate these restless wanderers, as I dis- 
covered for myself when my good fortune caused 
me again to cross the ocean and revisit North 
America ten years later. That visit was not the 

8 



114 -^ FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

least curious of my experiences, but I must not 
anticipate events. 

All the cleverest, coolest, and most thoughtful men 
in the army which entered France, had calculated 
that the campaign would be over in a fortnight. 
Many peasants had emigrated with the gentlemen 
of their province, or the officers of their regiment. 
With the exception of the engineers, every branch 
of the services was well represented, for a great 
part of the artillery, nearly the whole of the naval, 
and a large majority of the infantry and cavalry 
officers, had responded to the appeal of the King's 
brothers, the Prince de Conde, and Marshals de 
Broglie and de Castries. 

The retreat, which almost resembled a rout, had 
undeceived even the most confident of us. In 
France, all dmigr^s were proscribed under pain of 
death, so everyone who had a family to protect or 
support sought for a haven of safety and rest. My 
brother and I reached Switzerland, and stayed, in 
turn, on the shores of the Lake of Geneva, at 
Lausanne, and in the Canton of Vaud. 

My brother, who was by nature the most calm, 
thoughtful and least adventurous man in the world, 
had so completely shared in the general error as 
to the certainty of our success, that he had contri- 
buted all his available cash, amounting perhaps to 
40,000 francs, to the fund, raised at Coblentz by 
the gentlemen of our province, for the support of 
the army. He entered on the campaign with fifty 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 1 5 

pieces of gold in his pocket, and a horse worth 
eighty louis under him. When we arrived at Basle, 
we found ourselves in poverty. We had no servant, 
and carried what property we had about us; we 
could have appropriately quoted the saying of 
Bias ; * so my brother was obliged to sell his horse 
in order to save its keep, and the Bucephalus of 
eighty louis was sold for twenty-five. I should not 
have noted this incident but for a curious remark 
that it recalls to my recollection. A long time 
aftenvards my brother was recounting his adventures 
to some of his Swiss friends, who were listening 
with interest and attention to the recital of his 
political and pecuniary difficulties. When he men- 
tioned the sale of a valuable horse at such a low 
price, a worthy Swiss, thinking only of himself, 
said with native simplicity, " You should have kept 
that bargain for me." He was a good honest 
fellow, for if he had not been, he would not have 
been capable of making such a very naive remark. 
The Revolutionary storm had extended over all 
France, and covered the entire horizon, but we 
believed that it was but a storm, and we must put 
up with what we could not prevent, and whilst the 
evil days endured, the best thing to be done was 
to find a shelter for myself and family in some 
hospitable land. 

* One of the "seven sages" of Greece. When his native town was 
taken by an enemy, the inhabitants saved all they could, and advised 
Bias, who bore no burden, to follow their example. "I am doing so," 
said he, "for I carry all my valuables with me." 



Il6 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

We did not foresee, or consequently fear, that 
the Revolutionary party would confiscate and sell 
the property of all absentees, without distinction of 
rank, age, or sex. This compelled my sister-in-law 
and her two sons to join us. She left the Chateau 
of Pontgibaud, in which she had resided since the 
rather recent death of our father. He died some 
months before the Revolution broke out, and was, 
at least, spared the pain of seeing it. ]\Iy sister-in- 
law had left all her furniture in the manor-house, 
and the keys, so to speak, in the doors, for she 
thought she was only going to be absent a short 
time. The utmost that she expected was that the 
estates would be sequestrated for a short period. 
She brought with her therefore, as little baggage 
as possible, in order to experience the less difficulty 
in passing the frontier, but fortunately brought her 
jewel-case, which in this hour of misfortune, became 
the means of saving us all. 

The family consisted of my brother, his wife, 
their two sons, — the one a youth, the other a young 
child, — a lady's maid who had insisted on following 
her mistress, and a musician, named Monsieur 
Leriche, a man whose talents were only surpassed 
by his good qualities. 

A consultation was held as to the best means of 
gaining a livelihood, and the plan agreed upon was 
strictly followed. Adversity is the touchstone of 
resolute minds, and men of resolution rarely fail to 
win in the long run. My brother and his wife 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 117 

afford an instructive and encouraging example of 
what can be done by a father and a mother 
having united aims, and trust in God and in their 
own efforts. To vanquish evil fortune, they called 
in the aid of resignation, courage, employment, 
and perseverance, and joined to those qualities, 
foresight, economy, and natural, or acquired, aptitude. 

It is with admiration mingled with respect that 
I think of their continual labour day and night, 
and its gradually widening results, and that I 
remember the more or less fortunate attempts, 
which marked the reconstruction of my brother's 
fortune. Though he had possessed rich estates, and 
houses in Paris, he had lost all, and his total 
resources, in a strange country, did not amount to 
more than ten thousand francs. 

But he and his wife had the patience and 
perseverance of beavers, which when their huts 
have been carried away by a flood, immediately 
set to work to re-construct them. They began to 
work for their own living, and that of their family. 
My brother, who when he was rich had cultivated 
for his own pleasure his taste for the arts and 
sciences, now utilized his acquirements as adjuncts 
to the business he was trying to found. Drawing, 
mechanics, chemistry, agriculture, mineralogy, and 
mathematics,— he had studied all; and he found or 
made opportunities to employ all his knowledge. 

I cannot, without emotion, and without feeling 
faith in that Providence which has said, "Aid 



Il8 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

yourself and I will aid you," think of this tiny 
rill of water which became a rolling river of 
Pactolus, these small efforts which in ten years 
developed into a thriving industry. To the praise 
of human nature let it be said, that from the very 
beginning of his industrial and commercial scheme, 
his courage, perseverance, imperturbable coolness, 
honesty, exactitude in fulfilling all his engagements, 
and his constant schemes, as prudent as they were 
ingenious, met with that support and good-will 
which a man who possesses these quaUties will 
alway obtain. 

My sister-in-law, though but just before she had 
been accustomed to all the enjoyments and luxuries 
of life, or rather to the honourable use of wealth, 
became in twenty-four hours a housekeeper, and 
worked with her own hands. She could embroider, 
and her faithful maid was also of use to her in this 
work. Her husband had become an artist, and 
invented designs in embroidery which he sold for 
a crown each, or sometimes the women worked 
them. When he had again become a millionaire, I 
have heard my brother, — who was as quiet and 
unassuming in his manners in his prosperity as he 
had been in adversity, — when he went, as he often 
did, to see Comte de C , who comes from our pro- 
vince, and is our friend and neighbour, always ask 

to see N , the Comte's old valet. N had formerly 

been a small tradesman at Lausanne, and had ordered 
patterns from my brother and paid him a crown 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. II9 

each for them, to the mutual satisfaction of both 
parties. Such is the way of the world. Whilst the 
women and my brother worked, our fellow boarder, 
M. Leriche, the musician, would give concerts in 
the different towns in Switzerland, and bring back 
the pecuniary results of his tour, — the harmonious 
sounds of his Stradivarius converted by our 
Amphion into ducats, — as his contribution to the 
common fund. He insisted upon paying all the 
school expenses of my young nephew. 

"Did you not give me a pension. Monsieur le 
Comte, when you were rich? " said the kind-hearted, 
honest musician when he first joined our little 
household. " It is bad enough that you have lost 
your fortune, there is no need you should lose your 
friend as well. As for the pension, let it go: you 
can renew it some day, when we have returned to 
France." My other nephew, being older, was 
serving in Conde's army. 

At any rate the manufacture prospered, being 
further helped by some new workmen, also Emigres, 
being some of the officers of the regiment my bro- 
ther had commanded, and whom he had sent for 
and informed that he could find them means to 
live honourably by the work of their own hands. 
The calamities and excesses at Lyon brought to 

L a number of merchants, who had managed to 

save between them a large quantity of merchandise, 
and, before long, my brother enjoyed their good 
opinion and confidence. 



I20 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

It was proposed to him he should visit the great 
fairs of Leipzig and Frankfort, and sell goods on 
commission. Being quick and clever, as well as 
scrupulously honest, he was fortunate in all his 
transactions in every journey. He obtained credit, 
by the aid of which he was able to do business 
for himself. He sent embroidery even into Italy, 
and also took the productions of his own workshops 
to Frankfort and Leipzig. He even did some 
business in diamonds, having acquired in earlier 
days, some knowledge of precious stones. Thus he 
reaped where he had sown, and was able to turn 
to advantage the varied knowledge he had gained 
in his youth. 

I heard one day that the Americans, who were 
increasing in prosperity year by year, were now in 
a condition to pay their back debts, and had decided 
that all officers who had fought in the War of 
Independence should upon presentation, receive all 
their pay with interest to date. To me this was a 
real peculiuni adventiliumy for I had long since 
given up all hopes of ever seeing any of that money. 
I was glad to learn that there was a sum at my 
disposal, and without loss of time started for Ham- 
burg to embark on the first vessel ready to sail 
for North America. 

I found an American three-master of good appear- 
ance, for they had, and justly, the reputation of 
being very good ship builders, but, as there was 
nOt at that time any Admiralty supervision in the 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 121 

United States, many vessels were lost at sea through 
the rashness or carelessness of the sailors. I was 
mistaken ; the ship had been newly painted, and the 
paint hid the faults, but the first rough w^eather we 
experienced showed me that she was worthless. I 
made a remark to this effect to the captain, and 
was not much reassured to find he agreed with me. 
He coolly remarked that he thought she would 
manage to reach the other side, but in any case it 
would be her last voyage. Nevertheless we entered 
the Delaware without meeting with any accident, 
and the tide being in our favour, I landed at Phi- 
ladelphia. 




CHAPTER VI. 



My third voyage to the United States — Philadelphia transformed 
into a new Sidon — The same simplicity of manners — Mr. 
Mac Henry, Secretary of War — M. Dtiportail — Moreau deSaint- 
Mery — / m^et my old friends again — A triple partnership 
with Senator Morris at the head of it — Burke'* s prophecy — Plans 
proposed to me — Viscount Noailles — The Bishop of Aiittiti — 
A ynission to the Directory to claifn an indemnity — Marino, the 
pastry-cook, and M. de Volney — The Princes of Orleans — An 
elephant with a French driver — A trip to Ne7v York — Colonel 
Hamilton — Past, present, and future of the United States — 

/ meet the Chevalier de la C Our recollections of M. 

de la Fayette — His escape from the fortress of Olmutz. — Dr. 
Bollman — My retiirn to Europe and arrival at Hamburg. 

I HAD fully expected that six years of peace and 
stability would have repaired the ravages done by 
the long war, and that those houses which threatened 
to fall in ruins would have been repaired, for during 
the war, want of resources prevented the State from 
undertaking anything, the needs of the army ab- 
sorbing all the money — but I was far from expecting 
the magic and magnificent spectacle which the first 
rays of the sun showed me. 

It was not a rebuilt, restored, plastered over 
Philadelphia that I saw, but a new Thebes, a new 
Sidon. The port teemed with war ships, or mer- 



A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 123 

chant ships, equipped or in construction; on the 
quays there were a thousand new houses, and pubhc 
buildings which resembled palaces, — an Exchange 
in marble, the United States Bank, Congress Hall, 
all showed me that Philadelphia had become in 
six years, populous, flourishing, industrious, rich, 
and powerful. 

But if I did not recognize the city, I did the 
inhabitants — the natives, I mean. As to the strangers 
who formed a floating population, I could not help 
smiling as I noted some faces I had seen elsewhere, 
but I will speak of them later on, they ought to 
have a chapter to themselves. 

My first care was to see after the principal ob- 
ject of my voyage, the recovery of my pay and 
the back interest on it, for my surprise and admir- 
ation at the city did not make me forget the business 
I had come upon. The account being made up it 
seemed there was due to me about 50,000 francs, 
but the papers which would enable me to claim the 
sum were in Paris. In default of these papers it 
was necessary that two householders should be surety 
for me. I knew a good many old officers, but none 
of them possessed sufficient means to be accepted 
as bail for me. The President of the United States, 
General Washington himself, was kind enough to 
relieve me from this embarrassment, and the 50,000 
francs were paid over to me, and placed to my 
account. 

The object of my mission being fulfilled, the 



124 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

remainder of my stay at Philadelphia until my return 
to Europe, was employed in the observations of an 
idle traveller with an unfettered and philosophic 
mind. 

The Government officials were as simple in their 
manners as ever. I had occasion to call upon Mr. 
MacHenry, the Secretary of War. It was about 
eleven o'clock in the morning when I called. There 
was no sentinel at the door, all the rooms, the walls 
of which were covered with maps, were open, and 
in the midst of this solitude I found two clerks, 
each sitting at his own table, engaged in writing. 
At last I met a servant, or rather the servant, for 
there was but one in the house, and asked for the 
Secretary. He replied that his master was absent 
for the moment, having gone to the barber's to be 
shaved. Mr. MacHenry's name figured in the State 
Budget for $2000 (10,500 francs) a salary quite 
sufficient in a country where the Secretary for War 
goes in the morning to his neighbour, the barber 
at the corner, to get shaved. 

I was as much surprised to find all the business 
of the War Office transacted by two clerks, as I was 
to hear that the Secretary had gone to the barber's; 
both details were in harmony with the spirit of a 
nation that knew how to pay its debts. This recalls 
to my mind the very singular recompense which 
the American Congress awarded to General Stark, 
the conqueror of Burgoyne. 

The British general, dressed in a magnificent 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 25 

uniform, covered with gold lace, and with a cocked 
hat on his head, had been obliged to surrender his 
sword to General Stark, who for his part, wore an 
old blanket for a cloak, had a cotton cap stuck 
over one ear, and thick, heavy shoes on his feet. 
It was a typical representation of a poor and oppressed 
people triumphing over a rich and insolent monarchy. 
Congress, in a sudden accession of generosity, ordered 
that the conqueror should be presented with two 
ells of blue, and one of yellow, cloth to make him 
a coat, and half a dozen shirts of Dutch linen. 

I well remember hearing General Stark complain 
loudly in my presence, when he received this gift 
of the nation, that Congress had forgotten to give 
him any cambric to make the cuffs. 

This fact, which in the present day would appear 
incredible, was made the subject of endless jokes in 
the EngHsh papers of the day, then ready enough 
to find any subject on which they could twit the 
conquerors. 

What curious reflections this antique simplicity 
suggests, especially when we consider that even now, 
thirty-five years afterwards, the same principles pre- 
vail. What will become of effete old Europe with its 
budgets of thousands of millions, when compared 
to a Republic governed so cheaply, that the Govern- 
ment appears to be done by contract, where even 
the President is obhged to represent the nation on 
a salary of 125,000 francs, and is the only man 
allowed to have a sentinel at his door? 



126 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

Mr. MacHenry, the Secretary of War, recalled 
to my mind the name of a French ex-Minister of 
War, my old comrade, M. Duportail. I learned 
that my old friend was still in the United States, 
and that he had bought a little farm near the city, 
so I hastened to call upon him. I met him at a 
little distance from his house, and, judge of my 
astonishment, or rather inclination to laugh, at 
finding him dressed in full French fashion, with his 
hat under his arm, though he was eighteen hun- 
dred leagues from Paris. It was ten years since 
the Revolution broke out, but he appeared to be 
still awaiting the news that his portfolio had been 
restored to him. That was his daily and hourly 
thought, — a hobby as innocent as that | of Uncle 
Toby, — and after he had expressed his pleasure at 
seeing me again, his conversation was of nothing 
but the ingratitude of the P>ench nation, and the 
admirable projects for the improvement of the army 
that he had intended to carry out. 

"Ah," he said, "how sorry I was to hear you 
had emigrated. What a fine chance of promotion 
you would have had if you had remained with us. 
You had been through the war in America, and, 
when I was Minister, I would have given you what- 
ever you asked for." 

That would have been easy enough for him, it 
is true, but, all other considerations apart, his pre- 
sent condition was not calculated to make me re- 
gret the step I had taken, for all that remained to 



OF THE Wi^R OF INDEPENDENCE. 127 

his Excellency of all his former grandeur,— which 
had lasted but six months,— was a little farm in 
the New World, a couple of leagues from the 
primaeval forests, and within three days' journey of 
the borders of civilization. 

But his fall, which appeared to him so impos- 
sible, and such a political mistake, was no more 
of a fortuitous circumstance than his rise, which 
he could never have expected either. 

Alas, I met in the streets of Philadelphia plenty 
of great men brought down to the dust again, men 
whose ambition had deceived them, fools punished 
for their folly, men of yesterday who were no longer 
men of to-day, and parvenus astonished to find 
that Fortune's wheel had not stood still when they 
were uppermost. 

For my private instruction, my friend Duportail 
told me the names of the French refugees who 
had found in Philadelphia an ark of safety like 
that of Noah. The blowing up of the good ship, 
the French Monarchy, had been caused by their 
follies and mistaken notions, and the explosion had 
thrown a good number of them over to the United 
States. But they were not corrected or disabused 
of their errors, and brought to a better state of 
mind, but each and all,— Constitutionalists, Con- 
ventionalists, Thermidorians, Fructidorians,— imagined 
that their political downfall had been brought about 
by some 'U-chance just as their plans were within 
an ace of succeeding. They kept their eyes fixed 



128 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

on France, to which they all expected to return 
sooner on later and recommence what each called 
his great work, for there were exactly the same 
number of political systems as there were refugees. 
In the United States you might have believed 
yourself in the Elysian Fields described in the Sixth 
Book of the ^neid, where the shades still pursue 
the same ideas they had cherished in the other 
world. 

But a man must live, and the most curious spec- 
tacle was to see these Frenchmen, fallen from their 
former greatness, and now exercising some trade 
or profession. 

One day I entered a shop to buy some pens and 
paper, and found the proprietor to be Moreau de 
Saint-Mery, * one of the famous " electors " of the 
Hotel de Ville, of Paris, in 1789. 

"You do not know, I suppose," he said pom- 
pously, when I had finished making my purchases, 
" who I am and what I was ? " 

"No, upon my life, I do not," I replied. 

"Well," he said, "I, — the very man you see 
before you, — was ruler of Paris for three days, and 
now I am obliged to sell pens, ink, and paper, in 
Philadelphia, to gain a living." 

I was not so much surprised at this fresh instance 
of the instability of human affairs as I was to find 
this petit bourgeois really believe that he should 
astonish posterity. Nor was I particularly astonished 

* See Note M. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 129 

either to learn, some months later, that he was a 
bankrupt, but I may remark that he failed for 
twenty-five thousand francs, and I would not have 
given a thousand crowns for all the stock in M. 
Moreau de Saint-Mery's shop. Strange to say there 
is no country where bankruptcy is so frequent; — 
every morning you see sales by auction in some of 
the streets. 

A good many other personages besides "the 
electors of 1789," and who when in France, had cut 
quite another figure, were to be found walking 
about the streets of Philadelphia, as the Vicomte 

de Noailles, Due de L , M. S , Volney, the 

Bishop of Autun, and tutti quanh'. 

Some of them gambled on the Stock Exchange, 
and nearly always successfully. Others were not 
so fortunate, and their speculations were more risky ; 
nor were they above laying traps for those of their 
countrymen who had newly arrived in America. 

Senator Morris had conceived a vast and adven- 
turous undertaking. The celebrated Burke had 
written somewhere or other that Europe was about to 
totally collapse, and that North America was destined 
to receive the refugees and all the goods they were 

able to save. The Senator, in company with M. S 

and Vicomte de Noailles, speculated on this prophecy. 
They acquired more than a million acres, situated 
on the banks of the Susquehannah, and this land, 
divided into large or small lots, was advertised in 
the papers under the heading of " Good land to be 

9 



I30 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

sold." Nothing was said about residences — the 
purchaser was apparently to build his house to suit 
his own taste. To encourage their clients they also 
constructed in the city an immense building in which 
all the great personages they were expecting on 
the faith of Edmund Burke could be suitably lodged. 
The Pope, the Sacred College, a few dethroned 
monarchs, and other notables, were to rest there till 
they had recovered from the effects of their sea 
voyage, and before making up their minds to pur- 
chase a slice of American territory. 

It is literally true tliat this enterprising company 
had agents on the look-out for all emigrants who 
arrived from Europe. Their factotums kept a watch- 
ful eye on all newly-landed passengers, who appeared 
to have some baggage, and not only compassionated 
their misfortunes, but offered them the means of 
repairing their loss, by the purchase, in a new and 
hospitable land, of another estate of dimensions pro- 
portionate to the means of each new-comer. The price 
was reasonable enough, — only six francs an acre, — 
but the agent did not say that it had cost the Com- 
pany he represented only fifteen cents an acre. 

I knew a milliner who had made some money, 
and who purchased an estate at Asylum, the 
fictitious capital of this imaginary colony. The poor 
dupe went to inspect the estate which she had bought 
the right to build on, cultivate, and live upon — and then 
she came back to Philadelphia to gain her living 
with her ten fingers as she had previously done. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 131 

One of these agents, who had not much more 
sense than the devil of Papefigne, was ill-advised 
enough to apply to me, having heard, perhaps, some 
vague rumours about my being a French emigre and 
possessing some money. He did not trouble to 
enquire where that money came from, and how I 
had gained it, but started at once with a long 
discourse on the principles of humanity which 
animated this philanthropic enterprise, and then 
went on to boast of the beauty of situation, the 
fertility of the soil, the rich prairies to be mowed, 
etc. " All materials are at hand, " he said, " and 
everything has been provided. There is a master 
builder paid by the Company. We have even a 
restaurant in order to spare trouble to our newly- 
arrived colonists." He strongly urged me to buy 
five hundred acres of this new Promised Land — all 
for the modest sum of a thousand crowns. 

I took care not to interrupt him, and let him 
persuade himself that he had convinced me, and 
that I believed his statements, but when he had 
finished I told him that there was not a stone in 
the whole country, that two hundred acres of that 
land would not support a cow, and that no meat 
was to be found there unless you killed a deer. I 
added that as I had been all through the War of 
Independence I knew all about the district he had 
been describing, and that his boasted philanthropic 
speculation was a mockery and a snare. I ended 
by saying that the last and worst misfortune which 



132 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

could befall the unfortunate French emigrants, was 
to find themselves swindled by their own countr^'- 
men — men heartless enough to impose upon the 
credulity of strangers, and sell them a few sand- 
hills planted with scrub-pine for an Eldorado. 

I have never seen a man look more disconcerted 
than this unlucky agent did, but I should like to 
have seen the reception that the speculative trium- 
virate — to whom I had the honour to be known — 
gave their clumsy emissary when he rendered an 
account of his visit. 

Providence, however, did not permit the enterprise 
to succeed, and the three speculators came to a bad 
end. Senator ^Morris, crippled with debts, died in 

prison ; M. T went mad, and Vicomte de Noailles,* 

after having won four or five hundred thousand 
francs on the Philadelphia Exchange, left for St. 
Domingo, where he was killed on board an English 
cruiser. He, at least, died like a brave man, as he 
had lived ; — that much praise is due to his memory, 
but that does not prevent me from relating a story 
concerning him which is a proof the more of the 
inconsistency displayed by some of our illustrious 
faiseurs during the Revolution. The incident oc- 
curred under my own eyes, and I laughed heartily 
at it, as everybody else did. 

This ex- Vicomte had a deed drawn up at Phila- 
delphia by one of the notaries of the city, and when 
it was read over to him, he perceived that he was 

* See Note N. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 133 

mentioned therein by the name of M. de Noailles. 
He was exceedingly angry at this, and insisted that 
the deed should be re-written and none of his titles 
forgotten — Vicomte, Knight of Saint Louis, Knight 
of Malta, etc. The next day, the newspapers were 
impertinent enough to repeat — con licinza superiori 
— what had passed in the office, and all Philadelphia 
knew of the quarrel of the Vicomte with his notary. 
The story was accompanied by a note to this effect : 
" It is singular that a member of the Constitutional 
Assembly, who proposed the law of ci-devants, — a 
French nobleman who, on the famous night of 4th 
August made a holocaust of the titles, deeds, armorial 
bearings, etc., of all the nobility, commencing with 
his own, — should insist on those titles being applied 
to him in a land of political equality, where all distinc- 
tions are unknown." 

Let us pass on to another (^migrd. The Bishop ^cxSl^ 
of Autun,* who had been requested to "get out" 
of England, had established himself in the free land 
of America. Monseigneur wore a pigtail and would 
willingly have said as Abbe Raynal did, " When 
I was a priest." He was not at all troubled about 
his present condition, and still less about his future; 
he speculated, and laughed at everything and every- 
body. His company was much sought after, for he 
was an amusing companion and had plenty of wit 
of his own, though many witticisms of other persons 
were often ascribed to him. 

* Sec Note O. 



•H.-JC 



134 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

In spite of all his wit and amiability he was looked 
upon somewhat coolly by the best society of Phila- 
delphia, with whom his light, careless manners did 
not meet with the welcome they deserved. In fact 
the Anglo-Americans are simple and straightfor- 
ward in their manners, and the cynical, irreverent 
contempt of their guest for all things Americans 
respected greatly scandalized them. M. de Talleyrand 
had the right, if it pleased him, to pull off his 
clerical gown and trail it in the mud, but he had 
also at that time a position as a French emigre, and 
though he might resign for himself the welcome 
bestowed upon unfortunate people in that position, 
he also indirectly injured others. Were the Ameri- 
cans right to be vexed with his conduct? Every- 
one may judge for himself. 

Cardinal de Richelieu, when he went at night to 
visit Marion de Lorme, was careftil to disguise him- 
self as a cavalier, with spurs on his boots, yet he 
did not escape being ridiculed. The Bishop of Autun 
did not take these precautions, having peculiar ideas 
as to the rights of man, and confidence in the un- 
bounded liberty to be found in the New World. 
He might be seen walking the streets of Philadel- 
phia, in open day, with a coloured woman on his 
arm. This was a gratuitous insult to the manners 
and customs which — rightly or wrongly — prevail in 
the country, and where social prejudices have such 
weight and importance that not even an ensign of 
hussars would dare to run counter to them. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 135 

The Americans were certainly accustomed to see 
Quakers, who would not take off their hats, and 
even shirtless savages; but all, from the Congress- 
man, to the workman, read one or other of the 
thousands of newspapers which appeared, and they 
were not ignorant of the celebrity and the respon- 
sible position of M. de Talleyrand. All the details 
of his life as a priest were known, from the first 
act of it, — his installation as Bishop of Autun, — to 
the last, when he officiated at the Altar of the 
Country in the Champ de Mars on the famous day 
of the Federation of 1790. A refugee so celebrated 
should have exercised some circumspection in regard 
to his private life. 

That he did not preserve his ecclesiastical charac- 
ter when he was outside the pale of the Catholic, 
Apostolic, and Roman Church, the following story 
will testify. M. de Talleyrand had with him a fierce 
dog, which was a very sagacious animal. When 
it wanted to enter its master's house it would ring 
the bell, and if the door was not opened, instead 
of waiting it would go to the lady's house, and lie upon 
the bed until the return of the two lovers. 

But instead of relating a part of what the Bishop did, 
it would be preferable to recall to mind what he told us. 

Amongst other things he related, in his own in- 
imitable manner an account of an interview he had 
at London with a Gascon refugee. Early one morn- 
ing he heard a knock at his door, and asked, " Who 
is there?" 



136 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

"The Chevalier de C ," rephed a wheedling- 
voice with a strong accent of the land of the Ga- 
ronne. 

The Bishop of Autun opened the door, and the Che- 
valier entered and after a series of bows, said, " M. de 
Talleyrand, I have always heard that you were the 
cleverest and most sensible man in the world." 

M. de Talleyrand imagined that his visitor had 
come to borrow money, and was ready to reply 
" I was just going to ask you, " but it appeared that 
all the Gascon required was some advice. 

"Well, Monsieur, what is it?" asked the Bishop 
of Autun. 

" The fact is, Monsieur de Talleyrand, that I left 
the manor-house where I lived, and went to Coblentz, 
and so I am what is called an eini'grc, and now I 
want to know the best means of getting back to 
France. As you are so clever will you be kind 
enough to advise me ? " 

" What sort of position did you occupy in your 
province ? " 

"No position of importance." 

" What sort of life did you lead, and what fortune 
had your family?" 

" We are four brothers, and papa has an income 
of about five thousand francs a year. 

" Oh, well, no one is likely to interfere with you. 
I suppose you have a few crowns left ; go to Hunin- 
guen, Neufchatel, or Saint Claude. You will be 
sure to find a guide, some good fellow who will 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 37 

see you across the frontier; then you must avoid 
all the villages, only travel at night, and as you 
have the happiness to be unknown, you can reach 
your ' papa's ' house unperceived. Then keep your- 
self quiet, be wise and discreet ; never speak about 
Coblentz or emigration, and await events." 

** Ah, Monsieur de Talleyrand, how grateful I am 
to you. They were right in saying you are the 
cleverest man in the world. I will return home to 
papa ; but if a second Revolution should occur, you 
may bet I will be on the side of the people." 

" Take care not to do anything of the kind ! " 
cried Monseigneur. " Take care not to do anything 
of the kind ; next time you might make a mistake. " 

This last sentence contains quite a characteristic 
touch, and is the whole point of the anecdote. 

The Bishop smiled when he heard of the establish- 
ment of the Directory ; the diabolical spirit incarnate 
in him advised him to return to France. 

He told us of his intention, and Colonel Hamilton 
remarked that the country was still in a very dis- 
turbed state, whereas in the United States he could 
live at ease. 

"Yes," he said, "but I understand France and 
the French. Have you never been in a stable when 
the stable hands have forgotten to give the horses 
any hay? The horses neigh and stamp." 

We on our side represented to him the dangers 
he ran as a priest, as an emigrant, and finally as 
himself. Any one of these reasons would have sufficed 



138 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

to deter many a brave man, but had no effect on him. 

" No," he said laughingly, as he stepped on board 
the ship which was to take him back, "I have 
nothing to fear over there; I am up to all the 
tricks of revolutions. " 

It was not without difficulty, however, that he 
could find a vessel to take him. No American 
captain was willing to give him a passage, perhaps 
on account of his political importance, or perhaps 
because he w^as so much disliked. 

In fact, besides the causes I have already men- 
tioned, a report was current that once in a conver- 
sation about the loss of Hayti, when someone 
spoke of the difficulty of reconquering it, and of 
the scarcity of negroes in America, he said, " Why 
not establish the slave trade here ? The West India 
Islands are nearer than Africa." 

This remark, and the lady of colour, did not tend 
to place him in the odour of sanctity in Philadelphia. 
A tempest drove into the Delaware a Prussian ship, 
and the captain consented to take the ex-Bishop, 
but the crew did not appear over delighted with 
their passenger. I should not have been surprised 
to hear of the sailors doing as they did in an 
amusing story told by Bacon, when, after having 
first confessed all their sins to a Capucin monk who 
was on board, the sailors thought they would appease 
the wrath of heaven by dropping him into the sea. 

Thus we saw depart the diablc boiteux * who 

* An accident in infancy had rendered Talleyrand lame for life. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 39 

since, — under the name of the Prince de Benevento, 
— persuaded at the Congress of Vienna the kings 
of Europe to again march against Bonaparte and, 
for the second time, put the Bourbons upon the 
throne of France. Suum citiqite. 

In the pentarchy at the Luxembourg at this time 
was Citoyen Rewbel, a friend of Citoyen Talley- 
rand, and immediately upon his arrival our ex- 
Constitutionalist received from the Jacobin Conven- 
tionalist the portfolio of Foreign Affairs. 

The worthy Anglo-Americans no sooner learned 
that their " guest " had become Minister, than they 
foolishly imagined the occasion and the moment 
favourable to demand and obtain justice. Forgetting 
all about the lady of colour, and the proposal to 
establish the slave trade amongst them, they sent 
off three members of Congress, — whom I saw go, 
and return. Their object was to demand compen- 
sation in the name of the United States for two 
hundred merchant vessels flying the American flag, 
which — per fas ei nefas — the French Republic had 
captured during the three years the red cap adorned 
her brow. 

The disappointment and surprise of these ingenu- 
ous envoys was worth seeing, when they returned 
and narrated the details of their mission, and de- 
scribed the kind of diplomats with whom they had 
come in contact, and the impudence — as they art- 
lessly called it — of the proposals which had been 
made to them. 



140 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

The first ambassador was of the feminine sex. A 

Madame de presented herself to the envoys from 

Congress, described herself as a friend to the cause 
of the Independence of the United States, which 
had always been dear to her heart, etc. — and so, 
having paved the way, announced the visit of the 

most famous M. R de St F , who would be 

able to discuss the affair thoroughly. This second 
envoy dropped a hint that it was indispensable for 
the success of the demand that a little money should 
be spent. The ambassadress then reappeared, and 
finished by declaring that the affair might be ar- 
ranged for the sum of fifty thousand livres sterling, 
of which so much was to go to His Excellency as 
a douceur or " sweetness " (that is the exact word 
which the Envoys used in their public report to 

Congress) so much to M. R de St. F , for 

his part in the negotiations, and so much for 
" incidental expenses, " by which term Madame 
I'Ambassadrice probably designated her own share 
of the plunder. 

In short, the ambassadors returned with all their 
evidence and documents — but no money. I was 
present at the memorable sitting of Congress when 
one of the envoys read the report he had prepared. 
There was a mention in it of Citizen Talleyrand, which 
it is to be hoped he read in the newspapers of the day. 

"This man," said the orator, "to whom we have 
shown the kindest hospitality, is now the Minister 
of the French Government, and to him we presented 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 141 

ourselves to demand justice. And this guest with- 
out gratitude, this Bishop who has renounced his 
God, was not ashamed to rob us of 50,000 livres ; 
—50,000 livres which went to support his vices ! " 

I said to myself, " Good, easy people, they are 
worthy of their country; an Englishman would have 
found no difficulty in settling the matter." 

Many other celebrities of different sorts did I see 
at Philadelphia during my third sojourn in America, 
— so different from the two preceding ones. Here 
is another scene which I saw acted on the same stage, 
— that is to say in the same city. 

Marino, who had formerly been cook to my old 
friend the Chevalier de Capellis, had, for private 
and political reasons, taken up his residence in this 
city, and enjoyed the reputation of being an ex- 
cellent pastry-cook. One day I was in Marino's 
shop, ordering some dish, — we were old acquaintances 
and I knew him to be not only a skilful cook, but 
a brave and honest fellow, — when a stranger entered. 
He was unknown to both of us, although he was 
a Frenchman, and, — as will be seen, — enjoyed some 
celebrity. The new-comer ordered a pate, composed 
of the choicest delicacies ; he was going to invite 
a score of persons to dinner, and I fancy that the 
Due d'Orlean and his brothers were to be amongst 
the guests. The paU was duly ordered, the price 
was arranged, and all that remained to be done was 
for the pastry-cook to write down his customer's 
name and address. 



142 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

"Volney,"* said the stranger. 

"Volney!" roared the cook, who was as great a 
royalist as his former master, De Capellis, — " Volney ! 
Volney!" 

I wish I could have painted him in his wrath, 
with his white cap on his head, his apron tucked 
up, and a big knife stuck in his belt. Quitting his 
stove and its saucepans he came forward, and cried 
in a voice of thunder, — though his indignation caused 
it to tremble — 

** Get out of here, you scoundrel ! Get out of my 
kitchen, you accursed atheist. You confounded 
revolutionist, you have robbed me of two-thirds of 
the money I had invested in Government Stocks. 
I don't work for" — (I have toned down his remarks) 
— "people of your kind. My stove shall never get 
hot for you.'" 

And the famous, or too famous, Monsieur Chasse- 
boeuf de Volney had to make his exit from the 
shop of the best pastry-cook in Philadelphia, — without 
his pate. 

I have mentioned that the Princes of Orleans f 
were to have been present at the dinner at which 
Marino's pate did not appear. They had been some 
time in the country; — they stayed in all about six 
months. Once, whilst on their way to visit a 
colonist who lived at some distance from the city, 
one of the brothers was lost in traversing a forest, 

-♦ * See Note P. 

t See Note Q. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 43 

He was found by an Indian, who tracked him as 
a sleuth-hound would have done. 

After some time the Princes of Orleans went 
South to visit Louisiana, which then belonged to 
Spain. The Chevalier de Carondelet, who commanded 
for the King of Spain, received them at New 
Orleans with all the honours due to their rank ; 
but, during their stay in the United States, no one, 
— except the French, who, whatever their political 
opinions might be, could not regard princes of the 
blood royal of France as ordinary personages, — 
knew them, saluted them, or designated them but 
by the name of Equality. To the Americans this 
appeared the most natural thing in the world. You 
would read in the newspaper, " Yesterday the 
Brothers Equality slept at such and such a place, " 

or " We hear from Town that the Brothers EquaHty 

have arrived there." 

On one occasion the three princes went to pay a visit 
to General Washington at Mount Vernon. The negro, 
who announced them, said to Washington, "Excellency ! 
Excellency ! there are three Equalities at the door." 

Different countries have different manners. 

General Washington received the Princes of 
Orleans, but his doors were closed against the 
Vicomte de Noailles, the Bishop of Autun, and even 
my friend Duportail. The liberator of his country 
felt deeply for Louis XVI ; the King's portrait 
hung in his room, and he often looked at it, but 
never without tears in his eyes. 



144 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

Whilst on this subject I may relate that, during- 
my stay at Philadelphia, an Indian chief was once 
at dinner in a house where there was a picture of 
King Louis XVI, after Muller of Stuttgart. 
Many toasts were proposed, and at last the Indian 
rose, and standing before the picture, said, to the 
great astonishment of all the guests, " I drink to the 
memory of the unfortunate king who was murdered 
by his subjects." 

A number of French persons of both sexes, all 
ranks, and all opinions, had settled in Philadelphia 
and New York. Outside each of these cities, and 
scattered over the eighty miles or so between them, 
were many colonist who had escaped from the 
massacres of Hayti and had found refuge. They were 
in some instances accompanied by negroes who 
had remained faithful to them. These refugees 
rented farms between New York and Philadelphia, 
and having saved their lives, had next to find some 
means of existence, for living is very dear in this 
country. The Comtesse de la Tour du Pin had 
purchased a little farm at Albany, and went to 
market herself to sell her milk, butter, and poultry : 
she was much respected by all the country folks. 

I remember also that I met an old soldier of the 
Royal body-guards, who had escaped the massacres 
of the 5th and 6th October. He had sold a little 
farm he had in order to buy with the money an 
elephant, which he had taken the precaution to 
insure, for in the United States you can insure 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 145 

anything. I was much amused at this novel industry. 
This soldier of the King's Guards who had left Ver- 
sailles to become an elephant-driver in North- Ame- 
rica, had already had the luck to make fourteen 
thousand francs by exhibiting his noble animal, 
which perhaps was a direct descendant of the 
elephant of King Porus. 

Finding myself only some eighty miles from New 
York, I was curious to revisit" the scenes of some 
of our battles, and also to inspect the city, which 
I had never seen except from outside, when our 
army was blockading it. It was with interest and 
emotion that I revisited Topanah, on the banks of 
the Akensie River, where the unfortunate Major 
Andre was executed. I recognized with more or 
less pleasure (according to whether they reminded 
me of victories or defeats) the different positions 
which our army had successively occupied. 

My surprise equalled my curiosity when I entered 
New York. I admired, — from within this time, — 
this handsome city, which had then but 25,000 
inhabitants '(it numbers 120,000 to-day),* and the 
beautiful neighbouring island called Long Island. 
I was enchanted with all I saw, the elegance and 
cleanliness of the houses joined to the beauties of 
virgin nature; then the width and extent of the 
water ways, which are almost seas; the giant trees 
which form the primaeval forests of the New World; 
in fact all which is not the work of men's hands 

* In 1828, when the book was written. 

10 



146 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

is SO surprising on account of its imposing and 
gigantic proportions, that when I returned to 
Europe I seemed to be in another world — the Con- 
tinent appeared to me like a pretty miniature reduced 
from a large picture by means of a pantograph. 

I was glad to meet some of my old comrades in 
arms, both French and Americans; amongst others 
the brave and wise Colonel Hamilton, the friend of 
Washington, and who was afterwards unfortunately 
killed in a duel by Colonel Burgh. Hamilton, who 
had quitted the army and returned to civil life, was 
a lawyer, and pleaded in the courts and gave con- 
sultations. We often talked together, — much to my 
profit, — of the causes of the war, the actual condition 
of the United States, and the probable destiny of 
the nation. Anyone who had heard us talking 
about events which were then a matter of history, 
would have taken us for two of the speakers in 
Lucian's or Fenelon's "Dialogues of the Dead." 

"The American War," I said, "began in a very 
singular manner, and was carried on in a way yet 
more singular. It seems to me, on summing up 
all my observations, that the English made a mistake 
in sending troops against you, instead of with- 
drawing those which were already in the country, 
as you did not submit at once you must have 
inevitably ended by winning sooner or later. You 
gained experience and discipline in the indecisive 
engagements which were fought, and the scholars 
were bound to finish by becoming as clever as their 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 147 

masters. Look, for instance, at the Swedes under 
Charles XII, and the Russians under Peter the Great." 

"You are right, no doubt," he repHed, " but their 
second fault was to give the two brothers Howe 
each a command. The general undertook scarcely 
anything by land in order to allow his brother, the 
admiral, the chance to distinguish himself at sea. 
All that the English need have done was to blockade 
our ports with twenty-five frigates and ten ships of 
the line. But, thank God, they did nothing of 
the sort." 

"Thank God, indeed," I said, "for I believe that 
America would have come to terms with the mother 
country. I am the more inclined to believe this, as 
I notice there are a great many Tories in your 
country, and I see that the rich families still cling 
to the king's government." 

"Yes; and thus it happens," he replied, w^ith a 
smile, " that though our Republic has only been in 
existence some ten years, there are already two 
distinct tendencies — the one democratic, the other 
aristocratic. In Europe they always speak of the 
American Revolution, but our separation from the 
mother country cannot be called a revolution. 
There have been no changes in the law^s, no one's 
interests have been interfered with, everyone remains 
in his place, and all that is altered is that the seat 
of government is changed. Real equality exists 
amongst us at present, but there is a remarkable 
difference of manners between the inhabitants of the 



148 A FRENCH VOLUXTEER 

Xordiem and Sooodieni States. The negxx) is firee 
at Ffaflade^plna, bat he is a slave in Mrginia and 
Carofina. Large fortunes are made in the Soothem 
States, becanse the coiintr>' is rich in prodoctions : 
bnt it is net the same in the Xorthem States.' 

* Yes^ * I saidL * those who claim to look into ^e 
fbtxzre may sec in joar natioo. — as yoo say, — two 
div ei gin g tendencies; the one towards democrac>% 
the odier Uimaids aristocracy; but if some separa- 
tion of these clfimpnts ooold be made quietly and 
widiont strife; would the people be any the happier? 
Tenritorial possessions are, there is no doubt, but 
G^Wy t» *st »f9nf^\ in your coontry, which is perhaps 
owing^ : -^ that the British or Anglo- Ameri- 

cans iay only date ba<^ to Penn and his 

colony, ' a I mndred years or so. An estate 

oiver -' ' V remains ten or twrfve vears in the 



ies :.: f residence, and to 

the feet . dy dear near the 

great 2T>er at some ^stance firom 

the— ? -sentiallv business men ; 

w: U account, commerce 

* T ' 1 said- 'Many p e rauns believe 

'1 the United States to make 
~5^ question that is pot to yon 

J - - cjrz. .-: ^ . ' Do yon come here to sefl or 



OF THE WAR OF DvLZ? 



U9 



I have given, as nearly as I can remember it, 
all that passed between the scddier-lawyer and me 
at this interview, but I cannot forget tbe singnlariy 
wise reflection that I beard him make one day, on 
the subject of the French inter f erence in tbe Ame- 
rican War. 

' Considering the question by itselt* I said to 
him, * the Cabinet of Versailles would seem to have 
committed a pohtical £uilt in having openly sup- 
ported the Americans in the War of Independence, 
and more particularly for ha\'ing s«it over here all 
the young nobility of the Cooit, who retmned 
embued wixh repubhcan p t indf ^es. It has been 
maintained that the proper action for Fiance was 
to remain neutral, and take advantage of die difficul- 
ties of England, to occupy, and thus make her lestofe, 
Canada, which has alwa^-s remained French at hearL 
Tbis double opportunity* erf" war, or re-occupation, 
would have furnished an outlet for snr|dus popula- 
tion, which, failing that, has overflowed in the fonn 
of a revolution on our own monarchy, and has 
then inundated Europe.' 

This speech made him think oi the young nobles, 
who had overrun America like the sheep erf" Panurge, 
without, however, reducing tbe surplus populatkxi 
of France, and Colc»el Hamilton could not he^ 
laughing as he replied: 

* You are right. I am speaking in c^^xtshion to 
our own interests, for it is to tbe Frendi arms that 
we owe our independ^ice, but your Government 



150 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

would perhaps have done better if it had sent us 
your lower orders instead of your upper." 

I found at Philadelphia, my friend De la Colombe^ 
who, like me, was aide-de-camp to M. de la 
Fayette during the American War, but with this 
difference, that when our civil dissensions broke out, 
he still remained with the general. 

"You were wrong, my friend," he said to me, 
• not perhaps in not casting in your lot with ours, 
but in refusing on principle to have any commu- 
nication with us. I might perhaps have been able 
to dissipate some of your delusions, and induced 
you to reconsider the matter, and afterwards you 
could have done as you thought fit." 

He told me many things which astonished me, 
even after the events which I had seen ; — especially 
when he assured me that at the time when we 
believed all Europe, even including Russia, to be 
preparing to take up the king's cause by a general 
armament, Prussia had, through Ephraim, a Jew of 
Berlin, proposed an offensive and defensive alliance 
with France, the sole condition being that Louis XVI 
should send the Queen back to Vienna. I do not 
refuse to believe that this proposal was really made, 
but it seems strange that the avowed enemies of 
this unfortunate Princess should intentionally or 
unintentionally have tried to save her from the 
scaffold. 

My old comrade of the War of Independence, 
who had thrown himself, along with his old general, 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 151 

into the vortex of the Revolution, had afterwards 
retired to the United States, where like the wise 
man in the story, he listened to the distant echo 
of the storm. 

Of the unlucky ]M. de la Fayette we both spoke 
in a befitting manner; he, because he had always 
followed him ; I, out of gratitude for past favours, 
and we often also spoke of his share in the Ameri- 
can War, in which we had both been actors, and 
both under his orders. In the course of conversa- 
tion, M. de la Colombe related to me the history 
of one of the adventures of our general — a story 
which my departure for America on my third visit, 
had prevented my ev^er hearing before. 

"You have heard," he said to me, "how M. de 
la Fayette quitted, in 1792, the army which he 
commanded, and came to Paris, and how, after 
having failed to carry out his good intentions, he 
returned to Maubeuge, with the sad conviction 
that he would not be able to do any good, or 
prevent any evil, either in Paris, or with the army. 
You know that finding himself in this difficulty he 
deserted his party, and, with some of his officers, 
presented himself at the Austrian advanced post, 
and demanded permission to pass. This permission 
might easily have been refused, but there was no 
justification for arresting the party, for, as you are of 
course aware, all that they wished to do was to 
get to Ostend and then come over here. To the 
shame and disgrace of the Prince of Cobourg, 



152 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

however, or rather to the Court of Vienna, M. de 
la Fayette and the officers who accompanied him, 
were all made prisoners and closely confined in 
the citadel of Olmutz. You know that I was one 
of his companions in misfortune, but you do not 
know, for it is not known in Europe, of the plan, 
its preparations, and the carrying* out of his 
escape, which only failed through his own fault, 
for he did escape, and was, so to speak, wrecked 
in port. Here is the story. 

" General Washington, who was still President at 
that time, made instant applications to the Cabinet 
of Vienna to obtain his friend's liberty, but met 
with a formal refusal. A plan of escape was then 
arranged over here, and Congress devoted a sum 
of 400,000 francs to its execution. You have seen 
almost every day, at Philadelphia, the man who 
was charged to carry out the scheme; it was a 
German doctor, named Bollman, a man of ability, 
who did not need to be taught his lesson. Time 
was needed to carry out the scheme, and a good 
deal of audacity had to be concealed under a good 
deal of skill and prudence. 

" Having provided himself with excellent letters 
of recommendation the doctor arrived at Hamburg, 
as though to exercise his profession in Germany. 
He lived in good style, kept a carriage, visited the 
sick poor without a fee, and did many charitable 
acts in a simple and unaffected manner, though he 
followed in the footsteps of Cagliostro and the 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 53 

famous Count St. Germain. He was as slow as a 
tortoise in accomplishing his end ; stopped in all 
the principal towns of Germany, and when after a very 
slow progress, he did arrive at Olmutz, he had 
already achieved a reputation for science, kindness, 
and philanthropy. He did not omit to pay a visit 
to the governor of the fortress as soon as he ar- 
rived, and quickly made the acquaintance of that 
worthy German, who often came to see him, and 
invited him to dinner. The champagne was not 
spared on these occasions, and, at length, one day, 
over the bottle, the doctor hinted that he had heard 
in the town that a prisoner of some importance, 
who was under the governor's care, was in a pre- 
carious state of health. He remarked that, in his 
own interest, the governor should see to this, as if 
the prisoner died, his death would be imputed to 
neglect or ill-treatment, and the odium of that charge 
would rest not only on the gaoler, but even on the 
sovereign. 

" The guileless governor grew fearful of the con- 
sequences that might ensue, and begged the doc- 
tor's help and advice, and the other protested that 
as a good and loyal German he was ready to do 
everything he could for the patient. Trusting in 
the good faith of Dr. Bollman, the governor con- 
ducted him into the prisoner's cell. The doctor 
took advantage of the opportunity, and whilst feeling 
M. de la Fayette's pulse, slipped into his hand a 
note which informed him of the plot, and raised his 



154 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

hopes of ultimate escape. BoUman gravely in- 
formed the governor that the prisoner would in- 
evitably die in a brief space of time if he were not 
allowed to breathe the fresh air of the country. 
Owing to the feeble condition of the invalid no 
fear of his escape need be entertained, and the 
doctor concluded by saying that he would take the 
prisoner for occasional drives in his own carriage, 
which should only proceed at a walking pace, and 
could be escorted by any soldiers the governor 
thought necessary. That functionary, — never sus- 
pecting a doctor who had such good wine, — gave 
his consent. 

" M. de la Fayette, for his part, pretended to be 
extremely weak, and even unable to walk, so he 
was carried to the carriage, which never took him 
more than a league from Olmutz, and always brought 
him to the appointed spot when the drive was finished. 
This went on for some time, and the governor 
feeling more secure, gradually diminished the escort, 
and finally reduced it to a single soldier. 

" Meanwhile the cunning physician bought two 
fine saddle horses, and arranged to have them taken 
to a certain spot at a certain hour on an appointed 
day. Bollman also provided a couple of pairs of 
pistols, and plenty of money. When they arrived 
at the place arranged, they jumped out of the 
carriage, and the doctor with one hand presented 
a pistol at the head of the astonished soldier, and 
with the other offered him a purse of gold. Then 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 155 

the horses appeared, and the two fugitives sprang 
to the saddle and rode oiF. After going some 
distance they separated. M. de la Fayette rode 
fifty miles on the same horse which at last dropped 
dead, and he was imprudent enough to stop to buy 
another. In Germany it is the custom to fire a 
cannon when a prisoner has escaped, and the 
peasants, being therefore on the look-out for any 
suspected person, arrested M. de la Fayette for the 
sake of the reward they w^ould get for his capture, 
and took him back to Olmutz. The doctor who 
acted more circumspectly, got away, and returned 
to America alone." 

Such was the story told by my friend La Colombe. 
When I afterwards returned to Paris, I met M. de 
la Fayette, who said to me with a laugh: 

"Well! I also have been in a fortress, and tried 
to make my escape." 

"So I hear," I replied, "but you did not manage 
it as well as I did, General." 

Shortly afterwards I left the United States, — this 
time " for good " I think, — and landed at Hamburg. 




CHAPTER VII 

Arrival at Hamburg — Departure for France — / hecome a smug- 
gler at Antiverp — Condition of France — My residence in France 
— Departure for Trieste — Joseph la Brosse^ the banker — The 
Governors, Junot, Bertrand, Fouche (Duke of OtranteJ, 
Gustavson, King of Sweden — Jcrdme Bonaparte. 

I BELIEVE I am not exaggerating when I say that 
this city, and Altona, which is only separated from 
it by a fine avenue of trees, then contained seven 
or eight thousand French emigres, 

Hamburg, being a neutral city, did an immense 
business, and offered even more opportunity than 
the United States for the industry and activity of 
our French emigres, who were obliged to make a 
living somehow. Some wrote books, and others 
sold them. 

I met there a M. de P , who had a small 

capital of a hundred louis. He exchanged money, 
and was obliged to trot about the town like a mes- 
senger, exchanging ducats, piastres, sequins, and 
crowns, according to the requirements of the persons 
he met, but he managed to make his ten francs 
every day. 

I also found there a young Frenchman, who did 

156 



A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 1 57 

not know mathematics, but managed to teach the 
Germans all the same. As he spoke the language 
well he went every morning to a friend, a German 
naval officer, to take a lesson, and then carried his 
newly acquired information to his pupils, who each 
paid him a mark. If a pupil made any observation, 
the professor refused to give an explanation, in order, 
as he said, not to confuse the pupil's mind. When 
his lesson was finished he received his money, out 
of which he had to give ten cents to the naval officer. 

In fact the Emigre's busied themselves to such an 
extent in every department of commerce, that the 
Jews seemed likely at one time to leave the field 
to them. One Jew who was a painter, revenged 
himself by taking a likeness on the quiet of the 

Frenchman he most disliked,— a certain R F , 

I believe. He represented him as sitting in one pan 
of a pair of scales, whilst in the other were twenty 
Jews who were unable to weigh him up. The cari- 
cature was sold in the print shops. 

I had left my brother and his family established 
at Lausanne, where they had founded a house of 
business which promised to extend and prosper. I 
learned in a singular manner that his success had 
surpassed all his hopes. At Hamburg I heard some 
talk of a banker, a second " philosopher without 
knowing it," another M. Vanderk in fact, who 
under the name of Joseph la Brosse, had established 
a solid and flourishing business at Trieste. A draft 
of 100,000 florins drawn on him was paid at sight. 



158 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

I soon found out that this millionaire was no other 
than my brother. The invasion of Switzerland by 
the French had caused him to quit Lausanne, and 
he had carried his Lares and Penates to Trieste. 
For some years past he had made that city the 
head-quarters of his business, and his commercial 
transactions had increased to an enormous extent. 
I formed a project to go and visit my brother, but 
I did not carry it into effect for some time, for 
chance threw in my way an opportunity of visiting 
Paris. 

The circumstances under which this opportunity 
arrived were amusing, and I might say instructive. 
I have no compunction in mentioning them, for it 
is not probable that there will ever be another 
emigration from France, and, if there should be, it 
would be the citizens who had nothing who would 
rob the citizens who had property — that is the in- 
variable rule. We of the old nobility would not 
be the sufferers, for, heaven knows, few indeed of 
the fine castles, mansions, and fortunes, have re- 
mained in the families of their original owners. 

But, at any rate if the so-called liberalism — which 
is very different from the old Jacobinism, because 
it has the red cap in its pocket instead of on its 
head — if liberalism, I say, should ever drive the 
wealth out of France, I thought I should like to 
know how it came back. 

I did not look forward with much pleasure to 
my visit to France, and had no family ties, for 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. i 59 

my relations had either been murdered or driven 
out of the country, but there was danger to be 
incurred by returning. 

Nitimur in vetitum semper cuphmisque negata, 

I meant to preserve my incognito, and hoped that 
my friends, — if I should meet any, — would also keep 
it. This mystery, with a spice of danger added, 
gave promise that my days would not be dull, and 
besides I wanted to see France from behind the 
scenes; — to view the carnival in action. The Di- 
rectoire was still at the Luxembourg, and on the 
walls, the coins, and at the head of decrees, you 
read the words, Rcpublique Frangaise, and saw the 
fasces and the cap of liberty. I had heard all this, 
but I only half believed it, and, at all events, the 
spectacle seemed worth witnessing, even at some risk. 

To revisit France, if a chance occurred, was a 
fixed resolve with me, and the chance did occur. 
One morning while I was at Hamburg, I received 
a letter, addressed to me, coming from one of the 
departments annexed to France, and containing an 
official intimation that the name of my friend, the 
Chevalier de la Colombe, had been struck off the 
list of proscribed emigrants. I turned the letter 
over and over, and said to myself, " Why, this is a 
permission to bearer. My friend La Colombe cannot 
fail sooner or later, to hear in the United States, 
through the newspapers, of the removal of his name. 
I will ask the French authorities at Altona for a 



l60 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

passport in his name for Paris, and it is sure not 
to be refused." 

I presented myself before M. Dietrick, the Resi- 
dent of the Republic, "one and indivisible." At 
the moment I arrived a Gascon soldier of the body- 
guard was applying for a passport, and was passing 
himself off for a Swiss. The worthy fellow had 
nothing against him but his accent. 

"Yes, 77ionsou le Resident," said the applicant 
from the South, "I require a passport for France." 

" And so you are a Swiss ? " said the Resident. 

"A Swiss of Neuchatel, monsott le Resident," 
replied the Gascon. 

" Monsou le Resident " could not refrain from say- 
ing, with a quiet smile, " Since when was Neucha- 
tel situated on the Garonne?" 

The imperturbable Gascon was not taken aback, 
and without moving a muscle, replied, " Ever since 
the Revolution, 7nonso7i le Resident." 

The retort was unanswerable, and the passport 
was issued. In my case, the application seemed 
only a natural consequence of the official document 
of which I was the bearer, and I obtained the pass- 
port without any difficulty. I had borrowed my 
friend's name, certainly, but the description in the 
passport referred to me, and I set out on my jour- 
ney in perfect security. 

When I was about to leave, I reviewed the state 
of my finances, and as I know that what does not 
increase diminishes, I exchanged a fair number of 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. i6l 

ducats for English merchandise, which promised 
me a good profit if I could only succeed in introducing 
it into French territory, — but how that was to be 
done I had not calculated, and trusted to luck to help 
me at the critical moment; aiidentes fortitna juvat. 

I arrived at the gates of Antwerp. I had with 
me in my carriage, perhaps I should say in our car- 
riage, for it belonged to him as much as to me, — 
or rather it belonged to neither of us, for it was a 
hired conveyance, — I had with me as my travelling 
companion, an eniigrd whose name had also been 
removed from the list of proscriptions. He also was 
returning to France, but his papers were all in or- 
der. M. de P was a good, careful, prudent 

man, much esteemed by all who knew him, and by 
all who knew his daughter, for he was the father 

of the good and beautiful Madame de M who 

has the secret of preserving her beauty, for on my 
word as a man of honour, and a good judge, though 
she was beautiful at twenty, she was yet more beautiful 
twenty years later. I acted as escort and protector 
to my companion, and would not have suffered a 
hair on his head to be touched, and he had plenty 
of hairs on his head, for though he was middle-aged 
he was marvellously well preserved, — it runs in the 
family. 

M. de P had nothing to fear, but I was not 

at all easy in my mind when we drove up to the 
gates of Antwerp. My merchandise, my papers, my 
name, my person, were all contraband. The car- 

1 1 



1 62 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

riage stopped before the lodge of the customs officer, 
the door was opened, and an officer put his head 
in and asked the usual question. It was evening, 
and he carried a lighted candle in his hand. 1 
seized my companion's arm and whispered to him, 
" Leave everything to me ; don't speak, and above 
all don't laugh." Then having, on the spur of the 
moment, devised the little comedy I was about to 
play, I began my part. 

" Ah, my dear Durand, how are you ? " I cried, 
stretching forth my hand in the most friendly man- 
ner to the customs officer, — whom I had never seen 
before. " So they have sent you here now. " 

The man replied, as I had fully expected he 
would, " Citizen, I don't know you." 

With that I jumped out of the carriage, and threw 
my arms round the neck of my newly-found friend ; 
the candle fell, the customs officer swore and pushed 
me away, and the inspector came out and asked 
what was the matter. 

" Lieutenant, " I said, " I appeal to you. Here 
is Durand, my old comrade, who won't recognize his 
friend Bernard, though he taught me the profession." 

The inspector listened to what I had to say, the 
other officers turned out of the guard-house with 
torches, and the misunderstanding was cleared up, 
— much to my advantage. The inspector, — to whom 
I had been careful to apply the title of lieutenant, 
though he was only a brigadier, — was already dis- 
posed in my favour. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 163 

That I had been misled by a chance resemblance, 
and that the customs officer was not my old friend 
Durand, I was the first to acknowledge, but the 
inspector and all his assistants, — even the one I had 
baptized Durand, — were all very polite to me, and 
attributed the mistake partly to absence of mind, 
partly to good fellowship. Conversation became 
general, everyone had something to say ; — there were 
so many posts along the immense frontier, and such 
transfers and removals almost every day, — and the 
new post was always so far from the old one, — 
and a man never knew what it was to have a 
home, — and, we all agreed, the Revenue Department 
was very badly managed. 

" And now, citizens, " I said at last, in the gravest 
possible manner, " duty must be done, and it is not 
a customs officer who will refuse to obey the laws 
of the Republic. Lieutenant, will you please search 
my tnmk? Here is the key." 

The "lieutenant" smiled, the others all cried in 
chorus, " What ! search a comrade's box ! " I took 
my leave of them all, put the key back in my 
pocket, and got into the carriage again. All wished 
me a good journey and a short stay in my new 
quarters, for I fancy, that in order to make them 
pity me the more, I had mentioned Soubise or Ma- 
rennes as my destination. 

Good M. de P who had remained in the car- 
riage, still trembled for me. When we had passed 
the barrier, I laughed and said, "That is the way 



1 64 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

to smuggle. I could not get out of it as Marshal 
Saxe did, but you will agree that I managed it 
pretty well." And thereupon I told him the story 
of what happened to the conqueror of Fontenoy at 
the gates of some Flemish town. 

Marshal Saxe was returning into France after the 
campaign of 1745. At the gates of some city on 
the French frontier, a customs officer presented 
himself at the door of the carriage, and said, " Have 
you anything contrary to the orders of the king. 
Marshal?" 

"No, Monsieur." 

" But what is that ? " asked the officer, pointing 
to an immense barrel of tobacco on which the 
marshal's feet were resting, and which took up all 
the front part of the carriage. 

"That, Monsieur," replied the marshal calmly, 
"is my tobacco box." 

" Oh, indeed! " said the official. " Well, I suppose 
it is but right that a very great general should have 
a tobacco box in proportion," and he closed the 
door respectfully. 

Success begets confidence, and confidence begets 
fresh successes, and thus one arrives at high posi- 
tion, fortune, and honours, — but I only wanted to 
arrive at Paris. There was, however, one more 
formality to fulfil, — the passport issued at Hamburg, 
must be vise by the authorities of Antwerp. For 
some months past the chief official there had been 
called a Prefect, — the post had been newly created 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 165 

by the ruler, who, under the title of First Consul, 
was sole master in France, though there were pro- 
fessedly three persons at the head of the so-called 
Republic. France was still nominally a Republic, 
and individuals who ere long would be called Sire, 
Alonseigneur, Duke, Baron, or Excellency, were still 
simple citizens. 

I went to the Prefecture of Antwerp, and presented 
myself before the chief magistrate of the department. 
I was announced as M. de la Colombe. 

'* Yes, Citizen Prefect, I am M. de la Colombe, an 
emigre ray(f., from Hamburg, and I want my passport 
vis^ in order to return to France." 

" M. de la Colombe,'' said the prefect, in a marked 
manner, that I ought to have noticed, and looking 
at me in a droll sort of way. " Please to take a 
chair, M. de la Colombe. Have I the honour of ad- 
dressing M. de la Colombe? It is not long since 
M, de la Colombe left Hamburg. You only received 
the intimation of the removal of your name from 
the list a few days ago, I suppose, M. de la Colo??ibe. 
We are delighted, M. de la Colombe, to be able to 
provide French emigres with the means of returning 
to their mother country. M. de la Colombe wants 
his passport visd for Paris. I hope M. de la Colombe 
will not meet with any unpleasantness during his 
stay in the capital. I am glad to have had the 
honour of making your acquaintance, M. de la 
Colombe. I have the honour to wish you a pleasant 
and prosperous journey, M. de la Colombe.'' 



1 66 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

It was " M. dc la Colomhc " all the time. " The 
prefect is extremely polite," I said to myself, ''but 
is he afraid that people will forget their own names ? " 
Some time afterwards, however, I learned that the 
Prefect of Antwerp was the stranger who had for- 
warded to me at Hamburg, — through a third person, — 
the notice of the removal of thenameof LaColombe, — 
with whom he had formerly been very intimate. 
Then I had the key to the enigma, and understood 
his kindness, discretion, and genial banter, for in- 
stead of signing the visa to my passport, he could 
have told me openly that I was an impostor, and 
I should have had no right to complain. 

I ought to mention, as a matter of historical ac- 
curacy, that I am not quite sure, at this length of 
time, whether it was the prefect or the secretary- 
general with whom I had to do, but at this period 
there were many instances besides mine, in which 
functionaries did all they could to modify the rigours 
of the Osselin law. A certain great personage, 
whom I will not name, may perhaps remember this 
incident, which is greatly to his honour. An emigre 
applied to him, in the name of Bouchard. " I can 
do nothing for Citizen Bouchard," was the reply, 
"but I will do all in my power for M. de Mont- 
morenci." 

Anyhow, there I was in France, and when I arrived 
in Paris, I was as much under the shelter of the law 
as any inhabitant who had never quitted the country, 
or meddled in political events. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 67 

" His native land is dear to each true heart ! 
With what delight do I behold this spot." 

That is what nearly everyone feels, and nearly 
everyone says, — from Tancred to Potaveri, from 
the Frenchman to the Hottentot; — but I said nothing 
of the kind. 

The ruling inclination in me, — it has been a slight 
fault of mine ever since I was twenty years of age, 
— is to indulge in a private chuckle, and so I ad- 
mire very little, and I rarely blame, and though I 
do not laugh outright, I laugh in my beard, for I 
have seen so much that I have learned to estimate 
events at their proper value, and I praise no celebrity 
till after he is dead; — I have made so many mistakes 
in paying my tribute of admiration to a living 
celebrity. This disposition made me regard France 
as a very absurd set of magic lantern slides. When 
I had been forty-eight hours in Paris, it seemed to 
me that of all the persons I recognized, the pretty 
women had grown old, and the men had changed. 

I had always prided myself on the possession of 
a well-shaped leg, and had always been in favour 
of knee breeches and stockings, and when I saw 
everyone wearing trousers, I said to myself, " Has 
the Revolution made all the young men bow-legged ? " 
Similarly when I saw double or single eye-glasses 
on the noses of young men of twenty, I said, " This 
unlucky Revolution has made them all short-sighted. " 
I know that, as a general rule, the public cannot 
see beyond its nose, but when I noticed that it was 



1 68 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

merely a freak of fashion and that the young men 
got themselves up as carefully as Antinous, I thought 
perhaps they wore eye-glasses in order to better 
resemble the favourite of Adrian, and I laughed at 
those historians who pretend that glasses are a 
modern invention. 

I saw pass along the Boulevards two young men, 
dressed in the very height of fashion, mounted on 
fine horses, and trotting at a rate which made every- 
one turn to look at them. A middle-aged man, 
who was leaning on his cane, watching them, cried 
as they passed him, — in the tone which an uncle or 
a father would have used — "Very pretty indeed, — 
but the debts ! " They both laughed, and so did I. 
I knew them, and the reproof was not undeserved, 
as regards one of them at least. 

Another time I saw in a fine carriage, — and there 
were not many such at Paris at that time, — a face 
that I recognized by its ineptitude. He was a vir- 
tuoso whom I remembered as making his dibut at a 
concert, and with the greatest possible success, when 
he was a beardless boy. I had not forgotten that 
he said to me, as we came out, " Did I not play 
like an angel ? " I must confess that he must have 
had some talent in his fingers, for this young fool 
became a millionaire in six months, and has managed 
to keep his money; so if he was a fool he was no 
ass, — but it is not worth while to mention his name. 

As for me, I had at once, as a precautionary 
measure, taken up my residence in the quietest 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE, 169 

quarter of the city I could find, that is to say in 
the Rue St. Louis in the Marais. I had not been 
a week in Paris, — trying the ground to make sure 
it was safe, — when I unexpectedly encountered an 
old acquaintance. The meeting made me uneasy at 
first, but in the end was most fortunate and useful 
for me. I remember (though now with pleasure 
and gratitude) that my first feeling at this encounter 
was one of fear. It was exactly like the meeting 
between Almaviva and the Barber of Seville. The 
good fellow, — whom I took for something quite 
different, — scanned me so closely, that I said to 
myself, "I have seen him somewhere." 

" I am not mistaken, " he said, " it is you, M. le 
Chevalier. " 

"Ah, it is you, d'O ," I answered with a little 

more confidence, " and what are you doing at Paris." 
When I left in '91 he was proprietor of a cafe at 
the Petit Carreau. 

D'O had been brought up by my grandmother 

and my uncle, the President. He was a tall, good- 
looking man, with a frank open face, and, when I 
knew him, very active, strong, and exceedingly bold, 
though he carried no weapons, offensive or defensive, 
except a little stick about a foot and a half long, 
and no thicker than a switch. He looked a little 
older, but otherwise was externally very much as 
I had known him. However, I guessed from his 
character, that he was not likely to have remained 
neutral during the Revolutionary troubles, and I was 



I70 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

doubtful of what he might have become during the 
ten years which had elapsed since I had lost sight 
of him. All the difference between us and the 
characters in Beaumarchais' play was, that I was 
not a grandee of Spain, that we were on the pave- 
ment of Paris, and that honest d'O was, has always 

been, and is still, the best and worthiest of men ; — 
otherwise his story greatly resembled that of Figaro. 
" Yes, " he said to me, " I was, when you left 
France, proprietor of a cafe. I became what is 
called officicr de paix, and had to guard the Tuileries. 
You may guess that I showed our unfortunate king 
and his august family every mark of devotion, and 
there was no advice likely to be useful for their 
safety or repose that I failed to give them. They 
did me the honour to receive me, and confide in 
me as a servant in whom they could trust. After 
the terrible day of the loth of August, I was 
arrested, and brought to trial. I pleaded my own 
cause, I defended my head with courage and elo- 
quence, and as I had the advantage of not being 
noble, but belonging to the people, they were forced 
to forgive me for having done my duty, and I was 
acquitted. I wore the livery of the Revolution, 
but nevertheless I carried in my heart a love of 
the Bourbons, and of all honest people. I have 
saved as many as I could from the scaffold; many 
know it, but many others do not suspect it, for I 
never told them, fearing lest their indiscreet grati- 
tude might compromise me and prevent me from 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 171 

serving others. I was adroit, and feared nothing, 
though I rarely carried any weapon except the 
little 'Jacob's staff' you see here — sometimes I had 
a pair of pistols in my pockets, but I never had 
occasion to use them ; and I was so honest that 
they gave me carte blanche for my expenses and 
paid my accounts without examining them. 

" The Committee of Public Safety often sent me on 
missions, with powers exceeding even those of the 
Representatives of the people themselves, and thus 
I was able to do good service by making away 
with documents which would have destroyed whole 
families. I often took away papers, when I was 
sure that the Committee knew nothing of the affairs 
to which they related, and it was in this way that 

I saved the lives of the Comte and Comtesse de T 

who are related to your family. Ah, why was I 
not able to save your unfortunate uncle? but I did 
not know what danger he was in, and the scoun- 
drels were too quick for me. 

" At last I was put in prison myself, but I got out 
again, and was put in again, — according as the fac- 
tions which were disputing for power gained or lost,--- 
every three months; and then the 9th Thermidor 
arrived. The accomplices of Robespierre themselves 
felt that divine vengeance of which they had been 
the instruments. Thus, sometimes in favour, and 
sometimes in prison, but superior to fortune in either 
case, praised by some, blamed by others, taking 
advantage of fair weather, and caring little for the 



172 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

bad, and thwarting the wicked, I, with all my bold- 
ness and activity have come at last to be commis- 
sary of police in a quarter where everybody goes 
to bed at nine o'clock, — and am ready to serve you 
in any way that you may be pleased to command. 

" Finally I was transported, but in very good com- 
pany. It was a trick of Fouche, who wanted to be 
even with me, and I could do nothing. I made the 
voyage with Pichegru, and a lot of others, but they 
were all bewildered and lost their heads, for what 
use are great statesmen, famous warriors, and dis- 
tinguished personages when you remove them from 
their familiar surroundings. 

" It was I who found the boat and prepared the 
flight ; and brought six besides myself safe and sound 
to vSurinam. I remembered you, Chevalier, and do 
you know that it is no easier to get away from 
Cayenne than it is from Pierre-en-Cize ; there are 
difficulties in both cases. At any rate I came back 
from Cayenne, and though I have been buffeted 
about by adversity, the wind is in my favour now, 
and 'I am ready to serve you in any way you may 
please to command', as the hero of Beaumarchais' 
play says, — though, by the way, he had not been 
through so much as I have. I am as well known 
as Barabbas, and I know everybody, good or bad. 
wSpeak, you have but to command." 

The meeting, though absurd, was very useful for 

me. Through my friend d'O , I discovered that 

I was not on the list of emigres. There had been 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPE NTDENCE. 173 

some intention of putting my name down, but they 
had not my Christian names properly, one of them 
had been forgotten, and my identity was not exact. 
Such was the ridiculous state of the law at that 
time, — a letter killed or saved a man, — but when 
they did have your name properly you were put 
down as a supposed Emigre, even if you had been 
in prison all the time since 1792. 

When I found that I was not on the list, I was 
not satisfied with my good luck, and was bold 
enough to demand an account of property. But my 
case remained unsettled, perhaps because I had selected 
for my attorney, Jacques Deloges. I passed the 3rd 
Nivose quietly enough, I only heard the report of 
the explosion in the Rue Saint Nicaise, and I was 

not in the secret. My friend d'O assured me that 

Fouche would visit on the red caps all the wrath 
of Jupiter, the First Consul. But I saw taken to 
the Temple only a few days later, some persons 
who were certainly not "reds" but "whites", and 
I came to the conclusion that the air of Paris was 
not good for me, and I might find a purer and 
better atmosphere. I was taken with the reverse 
of homesickness, and felt as much desire to get out 
of the country as I had formerly done to get into it. 

I knew very well that, unless I went to England, 
I should, out of France, be still under the same rule, 
visible or invisible, but the Temple, Vincennes, and 
the plain of Grenelle, robbed Paris of all its charms. 
The occupant of the Tuileries had sworn that the 



174 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

sun should not set on his dominions, and that he 
would everywhere do as he liked, but it struck me 
that the rays of his sun would not burn me so 
much if I were at a distance. 

I said to myself, "" Italiayn ! Italiam!'' for I re- 
membered that on the Adriatic wSea I had a second 
home, where I should meet a fraternal welcome, for 
my elder brother, the head of the family, had there 
gathered together the household gods. 

D'O had procured for me, in case of accidents, 

passports made out in a false name, but with my 
correct description, and it was well for me that I 
used them at the right moment. The day of my 

departure, poor d'O , my political barometer, 

received, as a kind attention from Fouche, an " in- 
vitation " to retire to M and remain there until 

further orders. That only made me set off the faster 
towards Trieste, and as straight as I could go. I 
never looked behind me till I had passed the frontier 
of my native land, where, under the rule of the 
benign Bonaparte, no one was ever sure of sleeping 
in his bed at night. 

The word " prison " had always made me prick 
up my ears like a hare, and I was singularly well- 
instructed in the topography of France, as regards the 
dungeons. I wished that the angels could have 
carried the diligence, as they did the house of the 
Virgin from Capernaum to Loretto, for I felt quite 
a nightmare when I saw on my left the castle of 
Joux, where M. de Suzannet then was, and, as we 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 75 

skirted the Doubs, the citadel of Besan^on above 
my head to the left. I breathed more freely when, 
entering Lyon by the faubourg of Vaise, I noticed 
that Pierre-en-Cize was pulled down, and nobody 
else could be put there, — at least until it was rebuilt, — 
and I said to myself, " Well, it is certain that poor 

M. de L , who wanted so much to escape, is no 

longer there." 

And so with my heart full of kindly thoughts, 
I passed, — either that day or the next, — the bridge 
of Beauvoisin, and so from town to town, traversed 
the Kingdom of Italy, and the former Republic of 
Venice, where I did not see the Lion of St. Mark, 
because I had left it at Paris in front of the Inva- 
lides. I did not seek the Bucentaur, but a little 
felucca, and with my usual good luck, found one all 
ready to sail for Trieste. The felucca received me and 
my baggage, and the sea which the Doge of Venice 
weds every year, did not seem to notice the light 
weight I laid on its back, and in due time I landed safely 
at that city which for some time past had been known 
as the capital of the Illyrian provinces, and, — speaking 
without prejudice, — I found the air there better. 

I saw at once that I was not mistaken in sup- 
posing that I should be safe there. The country 
had been but recently annexed, and the people had 
just submitted themselves. The two-legged mules 
still carried their burden, though the pack was marked 
with another letter, and it was politic not to make 
the new load heavier than the old one. Trieste 



176 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

was the most advanced outpost of the French Re- 
public, and it was difficult to believe it would be 
held for a long term. The adventurer who governed 
France spent his years in playing at war, and risked 
all for all in each battle. 

Placed thus at the top of the gulf, I had in front 
of me the Adriatic Sea, which stretched like a long 
street between the former Republic of Venice, the 
former Papal States, and the former Kingdom of the 
Two Sicilies,— for the time being. Behind me on 
the north I had the land of the Pandours of Trenk, the 
Croats of the celebrated Count Serin, of the fortress 
of Zigeth, semi-savages, whose only claim to civiU- 
sation was their fidelity to the Romische Kaiser, and 
the paternal house of Austria. Peace between such 
neighbours only depended on circumstances. 

On the left, in Epirus and Albania, and as far as 
Ragusa, little trust could be placed in the natives, 
and behind these strange French citizens were the 
Pachas of Trawnik, Nicopolis, Widin, and Janina, 
who are accustomed to keep all their goods, from 
their cloaks to their money, in cypress wood coffers, 
which are not fastened to the wall. An uncertainty 
as to what to-morrow may bring forth is a natural 
condition of the lives of these Turkish potentates, 
who sat day after day smoking their pipes at no 
great distance from us. They afforded me a subject 
for comparison with the precarious condition of 
the French in the land to which I had come to seek 
a stone v/hereon to rest my head. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 177 

The flag of France was flying everywhere, and 
I saw the tricolour of the Republic, One and 
Indivisible, instead of the yellow and black flag with 
the Austrian Eagle, but the occupation was very 
recent, and our power seemed to me like a house 
of cards, liable to be blown down by the first ill 
wind, — though whether it would blow from the 
north or the south, I could not guess. 

Trieste, which is situated at the end of the gulf 
which bears its name, is built in the form of an 
amphitheatre on the side of a hill, the foot of which 
is washed by the sea. A citadel has been con- 
structed on the summit of this hill, and, from its 
position, commands all the city, which is divided 
into an upper and a lower town. My brother's 
house was in the lower part of Trieste, near 
the port. The Empress Maria Theresa trans- 
formed Trieste, which before that was merely a 
harbour, into a commercial city, the chief, in fact 
the only, maritime establishment of the Austrian 
Empire. 

From 1750, Trieste had been increasing in size 
and wealth. In 1767, an Insurance Company, with 
a capital of 300,000 florins was founded there; and 
in 1770 it contained thirty large houses of business. 
At the period of which I am writing, Trieste had 
arrived at its highest degree of prosperity. 

The business which my brother had founded, 
and which he conducted so honourably and with 
such success, was now one of the first firms in 

12 



I 78 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

Europe. He had gathered round him many of the 
emigre's, former fellow officers of the Dauphine 
regiment, and had made them associates with him 
in his business. 

I arrived in time to witness an incident which 
proved in what consideration my brother was held, 
on account of his upright conduct. 

But a short time before, a French army had 
presented itself before Trieste, and the city, being 
incapable of any resistance, surrendered. 

The general laid a heavy tax upon the city, 
and a great part of this fell upon the merchants. 
They prepared to pay it, and Joseph la Brosse 
put his own name down at the head of the list for 
a large amount. But the conquerors had heard 
that he was a French emigre, and knew how he 
had regained his fortune and the noble use that he 
made of it, and the P>ench general, being willing 
to oblige a compatriot who had so bravely strug- 
gled against adversity, declared Joseph la Brosse 
should be exempt from the tax, and pay nothing. 
My brother asked if his share w^is to be deducted 
from tlie total, and received the reply that though 
he was personally exempted from paying, no 
diminution would be made in the sum demanded, 
but his share would have to be contributed by the 
other merchants of Trieste. My brother was noble 
and disinterested enough to reply that he had 
received the hospitality of Trieste, and all the mer- 
chants of the city were his comrades and friends, 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 79 

and that as he had shared wdth them in good luck, 
it was only fair that he should be allied with them 
in their misfortune. 

" But, " he said to General S , " as you wish 

to show me a kindness, there is something you can 
do for me. Diminish the number of soldiers who 
are lodged in my warehouses, for I have noticed 
that bales of merchandise do not seem to agree 
with sabres and moustaches." 

The general laughed, and removed many of the 
soldiers who were billeted on my brother. 

He easily recouped himself, however, for his 
share in the contribution levied on Trieste, for he 
made a contract with the general for supplying 
the army with all that it needed, charging only a 
small commission. The contract was duly carried 
out to the satisfaction of both parties. 

My brother had a town house in Trieste, where 
he carried on his business as a banker, and mer- 
chant, and he had also a country house, or as it might 
more properly be called, an estate, with a handsome 
residence to match. His time was thus always 
occupied either by agriculture or commerce, and 
each hour of the day had its useful and praiseworthy 
employment. The management of the internal ar- 
rangements belonged to my sister-in-law, but she 
had a hand in foreign affairs also, managed the 
correspondence in the absence of her husband, and 
often gave sound advice on business affairs con- 
nected with the firm of Joseph la Brosse & Co. 



l8o A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

The Continental blockade greatly assisted my 
brother's speculations. The Levant cottons could 
no longer come by sea, and had to be brought 
overland, and he had much to do with the trans- 
port, and brought a great part of the best cotton into 
Europe. He thus became acquainted with some of 
the chief bankers of Paris. In connection with this 
I will relate an anecdote showing a comic contrast 
between two different kinds of men. 

I was along with my brother in Paris, whither 
he had returned to see if the waters of the political 
deluge had really retired from France, and if he 
could take back, like the dove, a green leaf to his 
family, who had remained in the ark of safety at 
Trieste. 

A confrere, one of the leading commercial men 
in Paris, and between whom and my brother there 
existed a mutual esteem and friendship, came to 
congratulate him on his arrival. He had exalted 
notions of the dignity of commerce, and in the 
course of conversation, he said, 

" You must own, Monsieur, that you have led 
quite a different life since you took to business. 
Now, your signature is worth a hundred thousand 
crowns, from one end of Europe to the other, and 
you are known everywhere as Joseph la Brosse. 
Is not that better than being called the Comte de 
Pontgibaud? At the best you would have been no 
better off than a couple of thousand others, whilst 
to-day " 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. l8l 

The door opened and the Archbishop of Rouen 
entered. He embraced my brother, and said, 

" So, my dear Pontgibaud, you have at last come 
back to us. Well, of course, you will stop with 
us. Leave behind your counter, and your borrowed 
name of Joseph la Brosse, and again resume your 
place as our old friend, Comte de Pontgibaud." 

You may guess how laughable this contrast 
sounded, especially to my brother, who did not say 
a word. It is nevertheless true, that at the time of 
the Continental blockade, my brother, who was 
previously a millionaire, possessed a fortune much 
greater than he had possessed, or ever could have 
possessed, in France. He was a merchant, banker, 
and landed proprietor, for he had, near Trieste, a 
fine house with plenty of land. The astute merchant 
of the city was, in the country, an able agriculturist, 
for throughout his life he had a taste for farming. 
He combined theory with practice, and did not, like 
"parlour farmers," content himself with inventing 
useless systems, but tried experiments which nearly 
always succeeded. 

Being of an observant turn of mind, he found 
something to do at all hours and in all weathers, when 
he was on his estate. If rain fell in torrents we would 
all make for the house, but he would go out again 
in the heaviest shower to study the direction that the 
water took in different places, and utilize his knowledge 
in irrigating, or draining, his land. Fortune was 
bound to come to one who sought her by all roads. 



I 82 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

His relations with all sorts of people, as a com- 
mercial notability, and more recently as a banker, had 
rendered his name known throughout Europe, As 
for me, I had sunk from an actor to become a 
spectator. My dear brother, the most sensible, calm- 
est, and most virtuous of men, would have been 
glad to do for me what he had done for many 
others, if I had been obliged to have recourse to 
him. His genius, — for so I might call it, — could 
not be compared to his character, which was one 
of the most noble I have ever known. In short, 
his wisdom and intelligence were only equalled by 
his kindness, his probity, his humanity, and com- 
plaisance, and it might be well said of him, 

""Homo sti??ij huvia7ii 7iihil a vie alicimvi piito^ 
But it is true that the services he rendered other 
people often turned to his own profit, without any 
intention on his part. Accidents even conspired to 
increase not only his fortune and reputation, but 
the esteem, good will, and gratitude which all felt 
towards him. The justice that was done to his 
character, the confidence that was shown in him, 
the protection and shelter that many came to ask 
of him, are satisfactory proofs that the human spe- 
cies does not wholly consist of wolves and sheep, 
torturers and their victims, tyrants and oppressed ; an 
example to the contrary was to be found every day at 
Trieste, where I have often watched with my own eyes, 
as in a magic lantern, all the most dramatic personages 
of Continental Europe pass one after the other. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 183 

Trieste became a refuge where all the political 
cripples, of whatever rank they were, discrowned 
kings and their ministers, came to seek asylum, and 
found it; my brother received them all under his 
hospitable roof 

For several years there was an almost daily suc- 
cession of celebrated refugees, of all sorts and con- 
ditions. My brother was all things to all men, and 
was generally looked upon as the friend of human- 
ity. He resembled Captain Cook, who sailed be- 
tween two hostile fleets of savages, who were pre- 
paring to attack each other, and was saluted by 
both sides. His conduct at Trieste reminded me of 
that rich and pious citizen of Agrigentum who, it 
was said, sat at the gates of the city of Agrigen- 
tum in order to be the first to offer hospitality to 
the travellers who arrived. He imitated Gellias without 
knowing it, and his kindness and delicacy were so 
much appreciated that all strangers of distinction 
were either sent or came to him. In fact, Joseph la 
Brosse of Trieste exactly resembled the colossal 
figure of St. Christopher, which is put at the door 
of some churches in order that it may be seen afar 
off, and in accordance with the popular belief ex- 
pressed in the monkish Latin proverb, Christopho- 
rum vidcas postca tutus eas. But it is doubtful 
whether even the great St. Christopher did as much 
good as my brother was able to do. 

Not long after my arrival. General Junot was 
named " Captain General and Governor of the Illy- 



I 84 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

rian Provinces." He had great confidence in my 
brother, and treated him with consideration and 
regard, but the sun of Portugal had had a bad 
effect on the head of this sabretir, who naturally 
was neither sober nor prudent. Though he held a 
relatively high position in the Empire, General 
Junot compromised his prospects by giving daily 
examples of extravagant and absurd conduct. One 
day when reviewing the troops, he drove in front 
of the soldiers in a carriage with four horses, and 
as he passed along he struck the men with his 
whip, crying at the same time, " Fall in line ! Fall 
in line! " He committed many other absurdities, 
and at last orders arrived at Trieste from the Viceroy 
that he was to be seized and sent back to Paris. The 
instructions were bound to be obeyed, but the task 
was not an easy one. F'inally a corn sack was 
thrown over his head, and he was tied up like a 
bale of tobacco, put in his own carriage, and 
packed off to Paris. 

At his departure, his tradespeople and other 
creditors surrounded his house, and refused to allow 
his baggage to be removed till their claims were 
satisfied. My brother, seeing a large crowd at the 
door squabbling over the cases and trunks, inquired 
the cause of the disturbance. He was told that 
the general's property was detained for debts 
amounting to two thousand crowns. My brother 
paid all claims upon the spot, without waiting for 
any instructions, and released the goods, which duly 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 185 

arrived safely in Paris. The cases contained much 
valuable property, and the diamond stars and orders 
which had been presented to the general. The 
Duchesse d'Abrantes wrote a letter of thanks to my 
brother, and added that her first care should be to 
repay the debt. In fact, as soon as her husband's 
affairs were settled, a draft for 2000 crowns was 
sent to Trieste, in repayment of the sum which had 
been so obligingly advanced. 

General Bertrand succeeded General Junot as 
Governor-General of lUyria and the adjacent pro- 
vinces. * He was honest, just, liberal, and un- 
selfish. He wished to make his new subjects love 
the rule of his master, — to whom he was himself 
sincerely attached. He rendered the impel lal yoke 
as light as possible ; no small task, as the people 
could remember still the paternal government of 
the House of Austria, but at least General Bert- 
rand was both just and generous. In order that his 
charity might not be imposed on, he charged my 
brother, who had the reputation of being a strictly 
honest man, to distribute the money, etc., given to 
the poor and needy, and to make all inquiries about 
the applicants for relief, and thus it happened that 
Joseph la Brosse, a French emigre, found himself 
accidentally acting as an officer of that Emperor of 
whom his subordinates used to say, " Our master 
wishes us to shear his sheep, but not flay them." 

This noble general, who was called elsewhere, 

* This is an error on the part of the author; Bertrand /rcc^d?^^ Junot. ED. 



1 86 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

had for a more or less immediate successor a man 
of quite a different stamp, the celebrated Fouche, 
Duke of Otranto, — another personage whom Joseph 
la Brosse saved from misfortune. 

Bonaparte lost all the ground he had gained, and 
as his armies were dnven back towards France, all 
the legations packed ^heir papers into wagons and 
returned to Paris. The Austrians in their turn took 
the offensive as the French retired before them. 
The French stil^ occupied Trieste, though the port 
was blockaded, and on all the heights which com- 
manded the town were Austrian flags, and batteries 
of artillery ready to open fire, if any resistance 
were shown. The notorious Due d'Otrante, shut up 
like a wolf in a sheep-fold, was in the greatest 
trouble. 

I was present when he came and begged my 
brother to save him and his children. Joseph la 
Brosse was quite a refuge of the wicked, and even 
Fouche did not have to appeal in vain. He soothed 
and comforted his visitor, and promised not only to 
save him but to send after him all his property 
which he was ready to abandon. The former priest 
of the Oratoi/ was transfoixned into a soldier, mounted 
on a horse amongst fifty gendarmes, and boldly 
passed through the Austrian lines without being 
noticed. 

Thus was the Due d'Otrante taken out of 
danger by Joseph la Brosse, and got away safe 
and unhurt, and the Dauphin granted a safeguard 



OF THE WAR OF J ^TOEPENDENCE. 187 

to one of the worst scoundrels known to history. * 

During this political crisis, my brother went from 
Trieste, which w?s still occupied by the French, to 
the Austrian camp, and from the Austrian camp to 
Trieste, as an emirsaiy in the confidence of both 
parties. His countiy house and property were 
always respected, and regarded indeed as neutral 
ground. 

Fouche had hardly left when Count Gottorp, the 
ex-king of Sweden, descended, or rather ascended, 
— for the Prince lived on the second floor, — at the 
house of Joseph la Brosse. 

It could not be said of this monarch at least, that 
he had no ancestors, and had not been brought up 
in the Tyrian purple and the royal ermine; he was 
no Lithuanian gentleman promoted to be King of 
Poland by the favour of a Muscovite arch-duchess. 
I had seen, face to face, one kind of sovereign,— a 
President of the United States,— but it needed another 
Revolution in another countiy to bring before my 
eyes the spec .acle of a legitimate " King by the 
Grace of God" in ^he house of a simple citizen. 
Thrones were slippery at the beginning of the Nine- 
teenth Centuiy, and hereditary kings were no better 
off than those whom chance had presented with a 
sceptre. 

At any rate the royal descendant of Gustavus 
Adolphus and Charles XII, the son and successor 
of that Gustavus III who was preparing to lead the 

* See Note R. 



1 88 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

chivalry of Europe against French Jacobinism at 
the moment when he was so treacherously murdered 
by one of his own officers and subjects, was now 
our guest at Trieste, and living on the second floor 
in the same house with us. His generals had turned 
traitors, and dethroned him, and he was now tra- 
velling about Europe under the name of Count 
Gottorp. 

He frequently came down to see us and would 
converse without any ceremony, but he always 
seemed to me to prefer the company of my brother 
and my sister-in-law, who never forgot that he had 
been King of Sweden, though he appeared to forget 
it himself and to wish that it should be forgotten. 
My imperturbable sister-in-law, though she joined 
in the conversation with good-sense and modesty, 
never neglected, on his account, to see to her 
household, or the business of the firm. The prince 
talked freely on all subjects, and showed some 
learning and a good deal of " superficial know- 
ledge" — but he was a volcano in a state of calm. 

His opinions upon different persons were in marked 
contrast to what, — according to general belief, — they 
were expected to be. Thus, he said of M. Fersen, 
" His zeal did me a great deal of harm;" and of 
the Duke of Sudermania his uncle, who became 
Charles XIII, " I am under the greatest obligations 
to him." 

Amongst the singularities which rendered his pri- 
vate life so strange, I remarked the following traits. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 189 

He always had three courses brought to table for 
his dinner but he would lock up one of them in 
his bureau to serve for his supper. 

Beggars in Trieste go from house to house and 
knock at the doors. The king always had a 
pocketful of money for them, and as soon as he 
heard a beggar knock he would run downstairs 
from the second floor to bestow alms upon the 
mendicant. Indeed he gave very little trouble to 
the few servants he had, doing much for himself 
even in his rooms, like Charles XII when he was 
at Bender. 

However, his ideas were, in general, sound and 
sure enough on all subjects, — with one exception. 
He had one bugbear; and if, unfortunately, the 
conversation reminded him of the violence which 
Generals Klingsporr, Adelscreutz, and his Cham- 
berlain, Silvespare, had shown towards him in his 
own palace, — or of his imprisonment, with his family, 
in the fortress of Drottningholm, and the act of 
abdication which he was forced to sign in June, 
1809, — his feelings would carry him away, and his 
head, — but, stop ! it was a crowned head, and, what- 
ever I recollect, I must not forget that. 

I remember also that he wished to make a pil- 
grimage to Jerusalem. When he was on board the 
ship that he had chartered to convey him to the 
Holy Land, my brother sent his son, — my nephew, 
— with some cases of liqueurs, some tea, chocolate, 
etc., as a farewell gift and token of respect. The 



I go A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

prince did the young man the honour to ask him 
to lunch, but he secretly gave orders to have the 
anchor weighed, and when the lunch was over, my 
nephew found that the vessel was sailing along, and 
that Trieste was out of sight. Finding that the King 
of Sweden wanted to make him a pilgrim in spite 
of himself, he protested energetically against the 
abduction, and with a good deal of trouble obtained 
permission to be put on shore. His object in carry- 
ing off the young man was, apparently, an idea 
that travel helped greatly to form the mind. Some 
trivial circumstance, however, brought the prince 
back again a very short time afterwards. * 

It was decreed that all sorts of royalties, the real 
article and the imitation, should meet at the house 
of Joseph la Brosse. Whilst the King of wSweden 
was lodging with us, Jerome, otherwise known as 
the King of Westphalia, arrived. I thought that the 
Carnival of Venice had been transpoi ted to Trieste, 
at the sight of this second King Theodore, more of 
a Corsican even than his ancestors. 

My brother's appearance was so simple, his face 
was so calm, and his bearing so much in harmony 
with figures, and book-keeping by double entry, that 
on seeing him at his desk, you would have sworn 
that he had been brought up to the business all his 
life. He was quietly working one morning, when a 
young man in a frock coat buttoned up to his chin, 
entered, and asked if that was the house of the 

* Sec Note S. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 191 

banker, Joseph la Brosse. My brother inclined his 
head slightly, and looked at the stranger with Teu- 
tonic unconcern. The young man took out of his 
pocket-book a draft for a large sum, on the firm of 
Joseph la Brosse. 

My brother quickly noticed that the stranger had 
a pocketful of these documents, and the unknown, 
not caring to preserve h^ incognito any longer, 
stated that he was the King of Westphalia, and un- 
doing his coat displayed a whole row of orders, the 
indubitable signs of the forced attentions which all 
the monarchs of Europe were compelled to pay to 
all those who bore the name of Bonaparte. Joseph 
la Brosse did not move a bit faster or slower, and 
did not say a word the more, in spite of the daz- 
zling display of a complete assortment of stars, eagles, 
lions, elephants, and what-not, stuck over the pec- 
toral region of the former King Jerome, but he 
sent to inform the King of Sweden that His Ma- 
jesty the King of Westphalia was in the house, 
asking if he wished to see him.* 

" The King of the second story," replied the 
prince, " is not anxious to meet the King of the 
ground floor, but the Queen is my cousin, and if 
she is in Trieste I should be very glad to see her." 

After such august personages have figured in my 
recollections, I do not care to continue any longer. 

The year 1 8 1 4 arrived, when must perish " that 
man of fate whom God had appointed to punish 

* See Note T. 



192 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

the human race and torture the world. The justice 
of God had chosen this man to be the minister of 
its vengeance. He existed to work out the designs 
of Providence. He thought that he was actuated 
by his own wishes and passions, and he was really 
executing the decrees of heaven. Before he fell he 
had time to ruin peoples and nations, to set fire 
to the four corners of the earth, to spoil the present 
and the future by the evils which he did, and by 
the examples which he left." 

How could Balzac, who died in 1655, write that 
about Cromwell ? He certainly foresaw the existence 
of Napoleon the Great, and, — without excepting 
Bonaparte himself, — it may be said that he was the 
only person in France or Europe to show that 
foresight. But my quotation is only inserted to draw 
attention to a little-known and singular fact in his- 
tory, for from the great political giant of the Nine- 
teenth Century I have personally received neither 
benefit nor injury. 

The year 18 14 came, and with it the restoration of 
the legitimate monarchy. I have called this restoration 
miraculous, and I blessed it with all my heart, with 
all my soul, and with all my strength, — but, alas, 
since 18 14, I can remember, without any great 
effort of memory, that I have seen two restorations, 
and, but here I will lay down my pen. 

THE END. 



BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES. 

Note A, page i. 

The opening passage of the book is the only one which 
it has been found necessary to change. It runs in the 
original as follows: — 

"Je me souviens d'avoir lu qu'en 1637 ^^ reine Anne 
d'Autriche habitait a Paris : le roi Louis XIII retournant 
de Vincennes a Saint Germain fut surpris par un violent 
orage, et coucha aux Tuileries ; Louis-le-Grand, naquit le 
5 Septembre 1638. En lisant dans I'histoire de France 
et cette remarque et ce rapprochement, je me suis tou- 
jours rappele, mais jamais sans rire, que feu mon pere, 
qui avait des preventions contre moi, m'a dit plus d'une 
fois; "Monsieur, vous ne seriez pas 1^, si telle nuit, telle 
annee, je n'avais pas trouve des puces dans mon lit." 
Le lit conjugal fut naturellement et legitimement le refuge 
de monsieur mon pere: je suis devenu, le plus honnete- 
ment du monde, I'effet de cette cause, et je suis ne sous 
les auspices des puces, le 21 avril 1758, etc." 

It may here be remarked that the Chevalier, though 
he gives the date of his birth correctly, has made a 
mistake of a year, either in the date of his imprisonment 
or in the time he was at Pierre-en-Cize. As La Fayette 
was already in America when Pontgibaud joined him, 

193 13 



194 ^ FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

either the k/lre de cachet must be postdated by a year 
or the Chevaher was 30 months, not 18, in prison. 

Note Bf page 44. 

j Comte de la Rouarie, — known in the American army 
as Colonel Armand, — had a strange career. He was born 
in 1756 at St. Malo, and, when quite a young man^ 
obtained a commission in one of the regiments of Royal 
body-guards. Though destined afterwards to become 
one of the staunchest supporters of royalty, he was at first 
almost a republican, before the Republic was thought of, 
and his free and fearless criticisms on the Court, caused 
him to be regarded with disfavour by the military autho- 
rities. He did not improve his prospects by falling madly 
in love with Mile Beaumesnil, * a pretty, but not very 
clever actress, who was his uncle's mistress, and proposing 
to marry her. She refused him, very sensibly remarking 
that their marriage would create a scandal, involve his 
social ruin, and ultimately cause him to loathe her. Find- 
ing that she was firm in her resolve, he first fought a 
duel with Comte Bourbon-Brisset, — whom he believed to 
be a favoured rival, — and then retired to the Monastery 
of La Trappe. 

When the war broke out in America, he threw aside 
the monk's cowl, and joined La Fayette. At the termina- 
tion of the campaign, he returned to France, and when 
the Revolution occurred espoused the royalist cause. For 
some time he, as leader of the Breton peasants, carried 
on a not altogether imsuccessful warfare against the Re- 
volutionary troops, but his forces were eventually defeated 

* In Michaud's Biographic Universelle, the name of the actress is 
incorrectly jjiven as Mile Fleury. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 195 

or dispersed, and he was forced to disguise himself as a 
beggar. For eighteen months he wandered about Brit- 
tany, and at last, 30th Jan. 1793, died of an illness brought 
on by exposure, and want of food. His body was buried 
n a grave dug in the midst of a forest. His "papers" 
were buried with him, in a glass bottle. One of the Re- 
volutionary spies found out the place of his interment, 
dug up the grave, and secured the papers. The infor- 
mation thus secured led to the execution of fourteen 
persons, including the proprietor of the chateau where 
La Rouarie had died. 

Lebegne Duportail was a very skilful engineer officer. 
At the end of the American War he returned to France, 
and was sent to instruct the Neapolitan army ''n military 
engineering. A quarrel with one of the Italian Generals 
led to his early recall. In 1790, La Fayette, who was 
all-powerful at that time, caused Duportail to be named 
Minister of War. He imprudently allowed the soldiers to 
frequent the political clubs. Whilst he was in Lorraine, in 
1792, he was "denounced." He at once returned to Paris 
and remained in concealment for twenty-two months, but 
in 1794 a law was passed punishing with death all who 
concealed a proscribed person, and he made his escape 
to America, and resided there for eight years. In 1802 
he was recalled by Bonaparte, but died whilst on the 
voyage back to France. 

Of Duplessis-Mauduit I have been unable to learn any 
particulars. His name is mentioned in Balch's Les Fran- 
(ais en Amerique, but, as he died young, and all that he 
did accomplish was performed in the New World, there 
is no record of him in French histories. 



196 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

Note C, page 45. 

The " M. Thomas" here alluded to was Antoine Leonard 

Thomas "of the Academy," born at Clermont Ferrand, 

1st Oct. 1732, died 17th September 1785. He was one of 

a family of seventeen children. A perusal of Jumonville 

is calculated to induce the reader to believe that there 

were not brains enough to go round, for though not very 

long, — the four cantos contain less than a thousand lines 

in all, — it is hopelessly dull and uninteresting, never rising 

to pathos, though often sinking to bathos. The couplet 

describing the death o{ Jumonville will serve as an example: 

Par un plomb homicide indignement pcrce, 

Aux pieds de ses botireaux it tombe renverse'. 

There is no mention of Washington in the poem ; — 

either the poet had never heard of him at the time (1759) 

or could not make the name fit into his verses. 

Note D, page 6j. 

The author is not quite fair towards Frederick Howard, 
5th Earl of Carlisle (b. 1748, d. 1825). Though a fop in 
his early days, — he and Fox were esteemed the two best 
dressed men in town, — he developed into a fairly good 
statesman, with a cultivated literary taste. He is, perhaps, 
best known as the guardian of Lord Byron, who dedicated 
the " Hours of Idleness" to him, abused him in " English 
Bards and Scotch Reviewers," ("The paralytic puling of 
Carlisle") and made the amende honorable^ in " Childe 
Harold" c. iii, 29, 30. His reply to La Fayette's challenge 
was not quite as given by our author, but was to the 
effect that " he considered himself solely responsible to 
his country and king, and not to an individual." It is 
quite true that the opposition papers in England made 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 197 

sarcastic remarks about him, and no doubt, if he still 
continued to wear paint and patches, the fact was not 
forgotten. Horace Walpole said of him, that, " he was 
very fit to make a treaty that will not be made." 

Note E, page 64. 

If Charles Hector, Comte d'Estaing (b. 1729) had been 
able to do the English half the harm that he wished them, 
they would have been swept oflf the face of the earth. 
The cause of his animosity was not very creditable to him. 
He was taken prisoner by the English at the siege of 
Madras (he was then a soldier) and released on parole. 
He broke his parole, and at the head of a party of French- 
men " did a good deal of harm to English commerce." He 
was again captured, and as his word was obviously of no 
value, he was sent to England, and spent some time in 
Portsmouth Jail. Wlien he was released he returned to 
France, "vowing eternal hatred to the English," though as 
his French biographer owns, "his not very loyal conduct 
had provoked the punishment under which he groaned." 
He was appointed Admiral in 1763. He did not achieve 
any very remarkable feat in American waters, against Howe. 
In the Revolution he tried to "sit on the fence," but 
there was a short method with mugwumps in those days, 
and he was brought before the tribunal and condemned 
to death, 28th April 1794. 

Note F, page 65. 

Pierre Andre de Suffren Saint-Tropez, generally called 
Bailli de Suffren, was one of the best and bravest sailors 
France ever had. He was bom at St. Cannat, in Provence, 



198 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

13th July 1726, died 8th December 1788. He opposed the 
English in the East, and in 1782 fought five obstinately 
contested naval battles with Admiral Sir Edward Hughes. 
Of these battles Professor Laughton says {Diet. Nat. Biog.), 
" There is no other instance in naval history of two fleets 
thus fighting five battles within little more than a year 
(four of them within seven months) with no very clear 
advantage on either side. French writers speak of the 
five battles as 'five glorious victories,' but in reality they 
were very evenly balanced in point of fighting, whilst as 
to strategic results, the English had a slight advantage 
from the first three, the French from the last two. The 
tactical advantage, however, commonly lay with the 
French, who were prevented from reaping the benefit of 
it solely by the mutinous or cowardly conduct of the 
French captains." It is possible that De Suffren would 
not have fared so well if pitted against Rodney, Hood, or 
Howe, but at any rate he would have shown himself a 
fearless fighter and a skilful seaman — a veritable " sea-dog " 
of a type which, unfortunately for France, has been all 
too rare in the annals of her navy. 

Note G, page 70. 

The letter given is quite characteristic of its writer, 
and though not included in Lomenie's valuable Life of 
Beaumarchais, is no doubt genuine, being exactly in the 
sarcastic strain he would be likely to employ. Of his 
quarrel with Congress this is not the place to speak, but 
we cannot unreservedly accept the Chevalier de Pontgibaud's 
estimation of him. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1 99 

Note H, page Sy. 

Fran9ois Joseph Paul, Comte de Grasse (b. 1723) though 
a brave man was not a great tactician. He was also 
unfortunate in being opposed to Hood, whom Nelson 
called, " the best officer, take him altogether, that England 
had to boast of." In Jan. 1782 De Grasse, with 32 
ships, allowed Hood, with only 23, to get into the 
harbour at St. Christophers, take 1300 men who were 
being besieged there, and get out again unscathed. 
Three months later, Rodney and Hood inflicted a heavy 
defeat on De Grasse, sinking his flag ship and taking him 
prisoner. Anglo-Saxons always respect a brave man, 
and De Grasse was treated more like a guest than a 
prisoner whilst in England. On his release he returned 
to France, but did not again assume the command of a 
squadron, and died in Paris, 14th Jan. 1788, in the 65th 
year of his age. 

Note /, page 88. 

Armand Louis de Gontaut Biron, Due de Lauzun, born 
15th April 1747, died on the scaffold 31st Dec. 1793. His 
youth was passed in dissipation, but in 1777, he startled 
everybody by bringing out a pamphlet on " The State of 
Defence of England and her Possessions in all the four 
quarters of the World," which led to his being entrusted 
with the command of an expedition to destroy the English 
settlements on the coast of Senegal. This he successfully 
accomplished (Jan. 1779), and in 1780 he was fighting in 
America. He took the Revolutionary side, and received 
the command of the Army of the Rhine in 1792, 
and in 1793 was employed against the Vendeans. As a 



200 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

matter of course he was accused of uncitizenly conduct 
"and too much moderation towards the rebels," was de- 
prived of his command, imprisoned, condemned, and exe- 
cuted. 

Note J, page loi. 

Philippe Pinel a celebrated doctor, distinguished for 
his knowledge of mathematics and philosophy, but best 
known for having introduced the humane treatment of the 
insane, who until that time had been treated as danger- 
ous animals, and left to rot neglected in noisome dun- 
geons. He was the author of over twenty scientific works. 
He died 25th Oct. 1826. 

Note K, page 104. 

When Louis XIV, was shown the newly-completed pa- 
lace of Trianon, he asked De Louvois, who was not only 
Prime Minister, but " Inspector of Royal Buildings " why 
one of the windows was smaller than the others? De 
Louvois rudely declared that they were all the same size. 
The King said nothing, but the next day sent for Le Notre, 
a celebrated artist and architect, and asked him in the 
presence of De Louvois whether the windows were all the 
same size? Le Notre declared that one of them was a 
trifle smaller than the others, and the King turned in 
triumph towards De Louvois. The Minister went home in 
a rage. " I must give this young fool something better to 
think about than the size of windows," he said, and within 
the next few hours he had declared war against Holland. 
The story is of doubtful authenticity, but if not true is 
beii irovato. 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 201 

Note L, page loy. 

Marie Jean Herault de Seychelles, who owing to influence 
at Court, obtained several good appointments. In the 
Revolution he became a Girondin, was a follower of 
Danton, and perished with his leader and Camille Des- 
moulins on the scaffold. 

N'ote M, page 128. 

In spite of the author's prejudices Moreau de St. Mery 
must be deemed a good man; — in fact if it may be said 
that La Fayette was the only man who " kept his head " 
in the Revolution, it might also be averred that Moreau 
de St. Mery was the only man who kept his heart. He 
was born in the island of Mauinique, 13th Jan. 1750. 
When he was only three years old he lost his father, and 
his mother would not let him go to France to be educated. 
His grandfather was a judge or magistrate, and young 
Moreau de St. Mery was when a boy, always interceding 
for some unfortunate prisoner. At his grandfather's death 
he inherited a sum of money, destined to defray the cost 
of his legal education in France, but he used the money 
to pay the old man's debts. At the age of nineteen he 
came to Paris, and studied hard. He resolved to sleep 
only one night in three. He acquired in fourteen months 
such a knowledge of Latin that he wrote a thesis in that 
language, and could declaim long passages, not only from 
the works of the poets, but from treatises on law, etc. 
During the first part of the Revolution he entered the 
National Assembly as representative of Martinique, but 
he was far too moderate or good-hearted. He was 
attacked whilst returning home one night, and left for 



202 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

dead on the pavement, with half a dozen sabre cuts on 
his head and body. He recovered, and retired to the 
httle village of Forges, where he was arrested by the spies 
of the Terror. One of these bravos, however, helped him 
to escape, and he got to Havre, where hearing that 
Robespierre had issued fresh orders for his arrest, he 
sailed for America. He kept a book-store and printing 
business at Pliiladelphia. The author's statement that he 
had little or no stock ''n his shop, and failed for a large 
amount, is nut confirmed by the biographical dictionaries, 
which asseii that he lived in some style at Philadelphia, 
and was often able to help poor French emigrants. He 
returned to France pnd was employed by Napoleon on 
several missions, but he was too soft-hearted, and having 
remonstrated with Junot for having burned a few villages 
and slaughtered the ''nhabitints, he was recalled from 
Parma, the seat of his last mission. Napoleon did not 
employ him again, and did not pay him his salary. 
Moreau de St. Mery sought an interview with the Emperor. 
" I do ncjt expect you to recompense my honesty," he 
said, "only to recognize it. Do not be afraid," he added 
sarcastically, "the disease is not contagious." Napoleon 
nevertheless allowed him to nearly starve, but, at the 
Restoration, Louis XVHI gave him 15,000 francs, and this 
enabled him to pay his few debts and pass the remainder 
of his days in comfort. He died 28th Jan. 1819, aged 69. 
The motto of his life, and to which he always acted up, 
was "// est toujours Pheiire dc faire le bien.''^ 

Note N, page ij2. 

Louis Marie, Vicomte de Noailles (bom 1756) fought in 
the War of Independence. Like many others of the 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 203 

" gilded youth" of France, he imbibed in America revolu- 
tionary notions which he carried back to France, and in 
the Revolution he was one of the most " advanced" mem- 
bers of the Convention. At last he found he could not 
conscientiously follow the leaders of the people, and in 
May, 1792 he went to England, expecting a change in 
affairs to soon take place. Then came the " loth August," 
and De Noailles was shortly afterwards proscribed as an 
emigre. His father, mother, and wife were guillotined. To 
return was impossible, so he went to the United States 
and settled at Philadelphia, where he became a partner in 
the banking house of Bingham and Co. He learned to 
speak English so well that on one occasion he conducted 
a law-suit that lasted fifteen days. Towards the close of 
the year iSc") his name was removed from the list of 
emigre's, but his business affairs in the United States were 
so extensive that he refused to return to France. In 
1803 he went to Hayti on business, and there met 
Rochambeau who entrusted him with the command of a 
fort garrisoned by 1800 men, but which was blockaded by 
a British squadron, whilst " 20,000 blacks" (?) besieged it 
by land. Rochambeau, who commanded the main army 
of some 5CC0 men, was forced to capitulate, but was 
allowed to transport his troops to Cuba. De Noailles was 
summoned to surrender, but he replied that " a French 
general who had provisions, ammunition, and devoted sol- 
diers could not surrender without shame." He had been 
privately informed that Rochambeau's convoy would pass 
near his foic on a certain night, and he cleverly got all 
his men on board ship, ran out under cover of the dark- 
ness and joined Rochambeau without being perceived by 
any of the British vessels. They got to Cuba, but De 
Noailles wished to join a French force at Havannah. He 



204 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

and a company of grenadiers who were faithful to him, 
embarked on board a small French ship, called the Cour- 
rier, mounting only four small guns. They fell in with a 
British sloop of war, the Hazard, 7 guns. De Noailles 
displayed the British flag, and when hailed replied in such 
excellent English that the captain of the Hazard was 
deceived, and asked if they had seen anything of '' Gene- 
ral de Noailles" whom the Hazard had been commissioned 
to capture. De Noailles replied that he was on the same 
errand, and he would accompany the Hazard. In the 
middle of the night he ran his vessel into the Hazard 
and boarded her. The English though taken by surprise, 
fought well, and though the Hazard was captured De 
Noailles was mortally wounded, and many of his men 
killed. De Noailles died of his wounds a week later (9th 
Jan. 1804) at Havannah. His heart was enclosed in a 
silver box, and his grenadiers attached it to their flag and 
carried it back to France. 

Note O, page 133. 

There is not much difficulty in identifying the " Bishop 

of A " with Charles Maurice de Talleyrand, Bishop 

of Autun. The particulars of his life are so well known 
that there is no need to recapitulate them here, but a few 
words may be said about his attempt to "blackmail" the 
United States Envoys. It is perfectly true that Talleyrand 
extorted bribes from everybody who was willing to pay 
him, and that he called the sums he so received douceurs. 
The " negociators" from the United States — Messrs. Charles 
Cotesworth Pinckney, John Marshall, and Elbridge Gerry, 
— had not been long in Paris before they were informed 
by a Mr. Bellamy (said to be a partner with Talleyrand 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 205 

in this blackmailing business) Ste Foix, and a lady, who 
cannot easily be identified, that "nothing could be done 
without money; the members of the Directory must be 
paid." According to the popular story, Pinckney replied. 
" War be it then. Millions for defence but not a cent for 
tribute." This does not quite agree with the Chevaher's 
statement that he heard one of he Envoys, — probably 
Pinckney,— inform Congress that theyhad paid Talleyrand 
50,000 francs, and only stopped when they found the 
blackmailers but increased their demands the more they 
received. I cannot help fancying that the popular version 
is the correct one ; it accords more with the dignity of the 
American people, and is borne out by the undoubted fact 
that Talleyrand was frightened, and wrote to Mr. Pinck- 
ney to ask the names of the persons who had demanded 
money, who, he alleged, had done so without any autho- 
rity from him. Talleyrand did not display his usual cun- 
ning in the transaction, for his letter aroused the wrath 
of Bellamy, who thereupon wrote to Mr. Gerry, that, " he 
had done nothing, said nothing, and written nothing without 
the instructions of Citizen Talleyrand." 

The " woman of colour" to whom the Chevalier alludes, 
was doubtless Madame Grand, "an Indian beauty " who 
was Talleyrand's mistress for many years, and whom he 
would have married if he had not been prevented by the 
unalterable formula of the Roman Catholic Church, " once 
a priest, always a priest." She survived him by a few 
years, and is buried in the Montpamasse Cemetery, at 
Paris. 

Note /*, page 142. 

Constantin Fran9ois Chasseboeuf, Comte de Volney was 
a well known philo.sopher and author. His " Ruins" was 



206 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

once a popular book. It involved him in a discussion with 
Dr. Priestley who called him," an atheist, an ignoramus, 
a Chinese, and a Hottentot." His theories have long since 
fallen into desuetude in France and oblivion elsewhere, 
and it is therefore unnecessary to criticize them here. 
His name still remains familiar to most travelled Americans, 
as a street in Paris 's called after him. 

Note Q, page 142. 

The Princes d'Orleans mentioned in these pages were 
Louis Philippe and his two brothers. Louis Philippe 
arrived in America towards the end of 1796, and was 
joined by his brothers early in 1797. After spending some 
time in America they left for England, where they lived 
on an allowance from the British Government until the 
Restoration. 

Note R, page iS'j. 

The Chevalier, writing many years after the events 
occurred, has rather mixed up his dates. Of the Duke 
of Ragusa (Marmont) who was the first governor of II- 
lyria he says nothing. General J. is, of course, Junot. 
He went out of his mind, and it is most likely he was 
kidnapped in the manner stated. A very few months 
later he threw himself out of window, fractured his thigh 
and died of the effects of the consequent amputation, — 
July, 1813. "General B ," — who preceded, not fol- 
lowed Junot, as the Chevalier states, — was Bertrand. There 
were several officers of this name. The one mentioned, I 
believe, was not the Bertrand who accompanied Napoleon 
to St. Helena, but a skilful engineer, who was removed 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 207 

from his command in Illyria and sent to fortify Antwerp, 
and render it— "a pistol held at the breast of England." 
He afterv^'ards resided in the United States where he un- 
dertook several important engineering works. Joseph 
Fouche, Duke of Otranto was such a well-known person- 
SLcre that he will be found mentioned in any good bio- 
graphical dictionar)'. 

Nofe S, page igo. 

Gustavus IV was only 14 when he succeeded his fa- 
ther. An intense hatred of the French, or rather Napoleon 
made him almost a monomaniac, and involved his country 
in wars with both France and Russia, with defeat and 
loss of territory in both cases. He was at last deposed 
and the throne given to his uncle the Duke of Suder- 
mania. Gustavus wandered about Europe under the 
names of Comte Gottorp, or Duke of Holstein-Eutin, and 
after 1816, called himself simply "Gustafson", or the son 
of Gustavus. It is possible that he was a congenital lunatic, 
and his misfortunes aggravated the disease. An instance 
of his eccentricity is the curious advertisement which he 
inserted in all the leading journals of Europe previous to 
starting for the Holy Land. He advertised for ten travelling 
companions, viz., an Englishman, a Dane, a Spaniard, 
a Frenchman, a Hungarian, a Dutchman, an Italian, a 
Russian, a Swiss, and an inhabitant of Holstein-Eutin. 
They were all to have good certificates as to morals and 
character, and each was to bring 4000 florins, or at least 
2000 florins, to be put to a common fund. They were 
all to dress in black robes, to let their beards grow " as 
a sign of their manly resolution;" and they were to be 
known as the Black Brotherhood. They were to meet 



2o8 A FRENCH VOLUNTEER 

at Trieste on a certain day. Apparently the people of 
Europe were disinclined to avail themselves of the pri- 
vilege of a trip to Palestine in the company of a roval 
"crank," for no one answered this extraordinary adver- 
tisement, and Gustavus started off by himself, — but soon 
returned. He retired to Switzerland, where he lived in 
the greatest poverty, for he refused to receive any money 
from Sweden, and would have starved had not his divorced 
queen and children contrived without his knowledge to 
supply his wants. He died in 1837 in such obscurity 
that there are even doubts as to the place of his death. 
An English encyclopaedia says that he died at St. Gall in 
Switzerland;— a French one that he died in Moravia. 

Note T, page igi. 

Jerome Bonaparte, the youngest brother of Napoleon I, 
was bom at Ajaccio, Nov., 1784, and died at Villegenis 
(Seine et Oise) 24th June, i860. He came to France at 
an early age, and, after a very little schooling had been 
wasted upon him, was given a commission in the Consular 
Guards. A quarrel and a duel, with the son of General 
Davout, caused him to quit the army and join the navy. 
In 1803 he visited the United States, where he married 
Miss Patterson, but the marriage was declared null and 
void by the Emperor. 

After seeing some naval service, he returned to France and 
was eventually received into the favour of his elder bro- 
ther, given the command of an army corps, and eventually 
created king of Westphalia and married the Princess 
Catharine of Wurtemberg. He was a mere " Carnival 
King," and indulged in every sort of dissipation, took 
baths of Bordeaux wine, bestowed enormous gifts of money 
on his male and female favourites, and wasted nearly a 



I 



OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 209 

quarter of the revenues of his extensive kingdom in vice 
and debauchery. 

When the fall of the Empire seemed imminent, he at 
first thought of joining his brother's enemies, but finding 
that such a step would bring him nothing but disgrace, 
retired first to France, and then to Trieste, with his wife, 
who still refused to leave him. 

After Napoleon's escape from Elba, Jerome again rejoined 
liis brother, and fought gallantly at Charleroi, Quatre-Bras 
and Waterloo. Imprisoned along with his wife by the 
Allies, he was after a few months set free, and went to 
reside first at Naples, then at Trieste, Rome, and Flo- 
rence. In 1S47 ^^c was pennitted to return to France. 
He took nt) part in the Revolution of 1848 beyond giving 
it his "moral support," but favoured the ambitious views 
of his nephew, who, in return created him Governor of 
the Invalides, a Marshal of France, and after the Coup 
d'Etat, President of the Senate. He took little or no part 
in politics, however, and was almost forgotten by the public 
when he died in i860. 



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